


Beautiful Loser

by roxymissrose



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Infidelity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Temporary Character Death, Top Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7533820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxymissrose/pseuds/roxymissrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Jared knows one thing about life, it's that you just can't have it all. He's been Jensen's best friend since they were little kids; he's been Jensen's team mate—followed right along when he became a firefighter. He's been the guy Jensen turns to when the going gets rough, but the one thing he'll never be is the guy that Jensen loves. </p><p>The bottom of his world drops out when, on one of their calls, a fatal mistake on Jensen's part takes him out of Jared's life forever.  </p><p>Only…there's this old ham radio Jared found in a box of Jensen's stuff, and when he turns it on, he's answered by a kid who strangely sounds an <i>awful</i>   lot like Jensen…</p><p>This story is inspired by the movie <span class="u">Frequency</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Link to art:[click to view the art by the incomparable Cassiopeia7 ](http://cassiopeia7.livejournal.com/598066.html)

1

**NOW**  


_They were side by side, jogging up the narrow hallway, the sound of their breath under their masks echoing in their ears. The taller of the two jerked his helmet towards a door, and the shorter—relatively—nodded. An ax sliced into the cheap hollow-core door, and they jumped to the side as a wall of flame shot out of the gash. One, two three and it died down. Their heads bobbed and turned, searching out anything alive moving in the inferno. There was nothing._

_Tortured wood began shrieking and swaying—_

_"We gotta get out, now."_

_"Let's go."_

_Back down the hall, jogging faster now, heading towards escape—an open window. "Go, go—"_

_Out of the fire, on to a fire escape—hands reaching out for the ladder when the shorter figure jerked to a stop. "Shit—there's a kid back there."_

_"No, the building's clear—"_

_"I saw—" The shorter firefighter bolted back into the building that was rapidly becoming an oven._

_The taller shouted, "Don’t—never go in alone, what the fuck—"_

_The world came apart as a giant fist made of flame and hot air slammed into him and knocked him through the window._

_"Jensen!" The name was torn out of Jared's throat, just as he was thrown out into the dark. The last thing Jared heard was his own voice echoing in his ears._

~J2J~

**THEN**  
JT looked up from his perch on the porch steps, the sketchbook in his hand forgotten as the big green moving truck rolled up next door. The house had been empty a while. Old Mrs. Brown had disappeared one day, and her house had been sitting fading and unoccupied. Being empty made it a source of endless fascination for JT. Any moment that he could slip away from under his momma's watchful eye he was there, looking in windows, playing in the weed-choked remnants of a vegetable garden, pretending the deep back porch was a house, a castle, a fortress.

He watched with sad eyes as box after box was taken off the truck and carried into his house. There went his private play area, safe from other kids, safe from teasing and taunting….

JT crept across the dry grass of his front yard, peered through the bushes, and watched the end of all his fun taking place.

Shortly after the truck arrived, a car pulled up to the curb and people jumped out of it—a man and a woman and two kids. The man tried to help her with suitcases and police the kids at the same time, two boys who looked to be around JT's age. He sighed. Boys mostly meant trouble. There was something about him that made other boys try to hurt him with words or fists, and he could never make his momma understand that it really wasn't his fault…well, not that he'd actually described his situation in actual words.

The new boys were running around the back yard; JT could see them through the gap in the bushes, _his_ gap. They were playing on his porch and running through his garden, probably smashing the last of the fat, juicy tomatoes that had sprung up all on their own. The world wobbled and blurred for a moment before he heaved another sigh and dragged himself inside. At least it was summer and he wouldn't have to deal with other kids for a wonderful long time—two whole months of safety to go.

*

"JT, child, why don't you outside and play, Momma's trying to cook."

He looked up at his momma and his throat closed—he couldn't tell her that he was afraid of the new boys. 

She looked out of the kitchen window and into the new neighbors' back yard. "I should bring some cookies or a cake next door, welcome them into the neighborhood…"

JT stared at his mother and hoped really hard that she wouldn't do that. He desperately tried to talk her out of it using the power of his mind, but she just shooed him outside. "I swear, I can feel your eyes on the back of my head. Go on outside and play, honey; don't waste this good day sitting in the kitchen, now."

*

JT crouched over the hill he'd made in the sandbox, a hill that was currently under siege by a platoon of green plastic soldiers. He'd wanted the package of little plastic baby dolls, but his momma bought the soldiers with a murmured, "Boys don't want to play with baby dolls, honey," even though he'd have much preferred the babies. The soldiers were…okay. They weren't cute. And they were green, but…it wasn't like they had a choice in what they were. They were really good at blowing up hills, though.He was humming softly to himself, making his soldiers dance together because they were celebrating a successful siege, when he realized that the sound he'd been hearing in the background was whispering and giggling from the bushes. His somewhat-cheerful humming faded into a tired sigh. The boys next door, Josh and Jason, something like that, were in the yard. They mostly ignored him, like everyone else did, but sometimes they decided to include him in their games, games like, 'throw water balloons at JT'. Or 'spray JT through the hedges with the garden hose'. None of those games were much fun for him at all. 

JT tried his best to ignore them; never spoke to them, never tried to make eye contact, but he knew that for boys like those two, it didn't matter. He stood and brushed his hands off—time to head inside. He was getting all gritty from the sand anyway, and he hated how sweat glued the grains to his skin. He turned towards his house when suddenly he couldn't breathe, and his neck stung like a hive full of bees had landed on it.

He blinked, gasped, and realized that the wet running down his chest and under his shirt collar was a smashed tomato. The pain faded quickly, but the mess and the hurt, the _embarrassed_ hurt, made his chest squeeze tight. Why did people want to hurt him? What had he ever done to…anyone?

He pulled the collar of his lovely t-shirt, now stained and slimed with tomato guts, away from his skin. He heard shushing and giggles and the frantic shivering of the hedges next door. He blinked again, and tears that insisted so painfully on falling finally slipped out. 

JT cried silently—if he couldn't hold the tears in, he could at least keep the noise inside. He heard a whispered, "Big baby," from out of the now quiet hedges, but ignored it. He stooped calmly to gather his soldiers up—he refused to show how much his heart hurt—and carefully put them back into their box, big damp circles dotting the sand as he did. Pulled the t-shirt over his head, revealing a too thin, milky-pale and knobby chest, and wiped as much of the tomato guts away as he could. 

The shirt was a mess, stains smeared over the faces of NKOTB, darkening the beautiful, pale pink fabric. It didn't matter to him one little bit he'd got it at the Goodwill—it was his, bought with his own money, and he loved it. Maybe…maybe he could wash the shirt before his momma saw it, save it from going in the garbage bin. 

JT held his box of soldiers and his pretty t-shirt tight against his scrawny chest and walked away, head held high as if he wasn't crying at all. 

A few days later, sitting hunched over a book on the porch, something smacked into his head and fell to the steps in front of him. He closed his eyes and waited for another assault, but nothing else happened. When the faint sting faded away, he opened his eyes again, peering carefully around. 

There was a paper bag at his feet. He picked it up, fumbled it open, and found a few pieces of candy, a new, bright-blue plastic soldier, and a crumbled piece of paper with _'sorry'_ scrawled messily across it. 

That was a new thing for JT. "Sorry…" he murmured and glanced over to the next yard, but no one was there.

*

"JT, honey, I'm going to drop you at the swimming pool tomorrow. Momma's got some errands to run in town. You okay with that?"

"Yes, ma'am. Can I get some lunch money, too?"

"Sure thing, Jelly-Bean."

"Momma! That's a baby's name," he protested, but smiled anyway. He was kind of equally thrilled and worried about spending time at the pool alone. On the one hand, his momma was finally getting that he wasn't a little baby anymore—Jelly-Bean aside—and that made him feel good. But part of being a big boy meant not hiding behind his momma anymore. He wasn't too sure how he felt about being a visible target. 

The next morning, excitement overcame fear. He was up bright and early, and helped his momma pack two towels, along with one of the books he'd taken out of the library, into a bright green bag covered all over with purple and hot pink flip-flops. It always made him smile a little with how bright and cheerful it was. His momma had bought it especially for him to use for the pool—she'd hugged him and kissed him and given it to him as a surprise right after school let out for the summer, and it was a perfect gift. 

"Here you go, JT." Momma gave him a few dollars along with a big handful of change—enough for a coke and a couple of hot dogs, and there just might be enough for a Popsicle, too. "Put it in the zippered pocket now, you hear?"

As usual on the rare occasions that he was alone at the pool, he edged to the far corner of the fenced-in enclosure, laid out his towel out so his back was against the shower building. JT pulled his book out of the bag and settled in. He was absorbed in his book and forgot to be watchful, so he startled when a shadow darkened the page he was reading.

"Hi."

JT looked up at a skinny, blond kid looking down at him. He looked to be maybe the same age, maybe a bit older than him, but probably not by much. It was his neighbor, one of them anyway.

"You're the kid from next door, right?" the boy asked.

JT nodded, and closed his book and slipped it back into the bag. He gripped the handle, got ready to slide his feet under him, his thighs bunching. He could run really, really fast. Not even his momma knew how fast he could run….

"I'm sorry about the tomato. I tried to stop Josh, but—"

"You thought it was funny. You laughed, I heard you." JT took advantage of the kid's surprise to leap up and run his fastest. His heart thumped hard and painful when he realized he'd forgotten his bag, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wouldn't be able to go to the pool again, though—not after losing the towels and the bag and the _library_ book. Momma was going to be so mad, he thought. Losing the bag, and the money, and…and what if they had to pay for the book, too?

He gulped, over and over, trying to force back tears while his feet slapped the pavement over and over….

He made it home, into the back yard, and acted like he'd just strolled up to the gate when he heard his momma's car pull up in front. 

Later that evening, lying in bed, he thought about what had happened that day, thought about how today was just one more thing he'd kind of, sort of, lied to his momma about—lied by not telling, anyway. He imagined that when he did tell her he'd lost a library book _and_ the money she'd given him, it would be a long time before she stopped treating him like a baby. He couldn't even blame her for it. He had been a baby. He should have stood up for himself, should have told that boy to get lost. How could someone with such pretty eyes be so mean?

*

JT grabbed a bag of groceries from the car, followed his momma up their back porch steps and almost tripped over something sitting on the lowest step. He looked down and there, magically, was the beautiful flip-flop bag he'd left at the pool when he ran, neatly tucked into a corner of the step. There were some soft peppermint candies in a plastic bag like before along with a note tucked in the front cover of his library book.

_I'm really sorry. I mean it. J_

JT stuffed the note in his pocket and closed the book. _J._ That boy had said Josh, said he'd tried to stop Josh. He held his wonderful bag to his chest and just knew that _J._ meant the skinny boy—Jason—was the one who'd left it. He dug a candy out of the bag, and rolled the chalky bit between his fingers. It was pink, silky-smooth, and left his fingers smelling a bit like peppermint.

Later that evening, he climbed out of his bedroom window to sit on the porch roof and watch the sun set. He opened the notebook he'd brought out with him, and sketched until it was too dark to see. He heard music—his momma was watching some show on TV, one with a lot of dancing. He rubbed the collar of the freshly laundered, tomato-stain free, New Kids On The Block t-shirt against his chin. The shirt was soft as kittens. When it was newer, it'd been the same pink as the candies…thinking of those candies confused him, but also made him smile. Jason might not be a friend, but maybe he wasn't an enemy either. JT shrugged lightly. Or maybe he was just a weird kid with a weird way of wiping out his guilty feelings. Plastic bags of treats…he shook his head, fished a couple of peppermints out of the little bag and popped them in his mouth.

~J2J~

**NOW**  
 _Jared spent nearly a month in the hospital recovering—a broken leg, broken ankle, minor burns. He was pretty sure there was an acid-clawed demon lodged in his back. Didn't matter. He held every bit of the pain close to his heart—it was the least he deserved for failing Jensen. His therapist seemed to think he was punishing himself for no good reason, that what happened to Jensen was a random turn of the wheel…what the hell did she know?_

_Mike was there almost every day, with news about the firehouse, the neighborhood, his friends…Mike talked and Jared turned to the wall and lay in a bubble of silence, a world of his own filled with pain and loss—the building had been clear, no kid, no body at all—Jensen had died for nothing._

_Jared tackled physical therapy like it was his cross to bear, pushed himself to the limit and beyond. He wanted out—out of the hospital, out of the firehouse, just— _out._ When he left the hospital, he left alone. He told no one but immediate family. Josh picked him up and brought him back to the little house Jared had always imagined, that in a perfect world, he and Jensen would have shared. It was as good a place as any to go to…honestly, he really didn’t give a shit where he went. Without Jensen, there was nothing left to care about._

*

Blueberries.  
He'd woken up to the smell of blueberries, knowing it wasn't real, that he was imagining the smell. Again. Which was maybe better than imagining he heard Jen, whispering in the corners…no, definitely better than that. It was a good thing that Jensen's voice had finally faded into silence, at least that's what Jared told himself.

He threw on sweats, and schussed down the hallway to the kitchen, the thick wool socks on his always-cold feet muffling any sound. In the background, the radio played; he always needed some background noise these days, or the silence would make him go nuts. Nuttier than he was now. A little sideways smile without much humor in it warped one corner of his mouth. 

In the kitchen, he raised the blinds, leaned a hip against the sink counter as he filled the teapot and set it on the stove to boil, all without a glance or much thought. He fished a cup out of the cabinet and plunked a teabag in it and sighed at the scent of blueberries—the real smell, not his brain teasing him. 

Early mornings like this, he could let himself feel. He could miss him. Miss the way the sun would turn his green eyes iridescent, lighting the amber and gold swirled through the jade. And his smile—that beautiful, beautiful smile, the way it pulled up the corners of his mouth, first one side, then the other and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled and his face reflected love, humor…Jared's heart. 

He missed coming into his momma's kitchen, the way the smell of that fruity, awful tea competed with the heady smell of fresh ground coffee,. Missed Jensen sitting at their kitchen table, blowing cooling breaths across the top of his mug. Momma would be drinking her tea, and Jared's coffee would be waiting for him, while Jensen waited patiently for him to sit so he could make breakfast. That's what best friends did for each other, after all. They'd hang out, get drunk, Jared would drag Jensen home and shove him into the guest bedroom, and in the morning, Jensen would make them all breakfast—sometimes just toast—and Momma would always be nice enough not to comment on Jensen being there.

Jared liked to imagine that those memories had taken place _here,_ in his house, instead of his momma's. That some morning, he'd come into his own kitchen to find Jensen leaning back against the bar, wide shoulders spanned by tight white cotton, hips cocked towards him and a pair of Jared's ratty flannel sleep pants snug over his crotch outlining the thick curve of his dick—imagined that he'd yanked those ugly flannel pants down around Jensen's ankles and rubbed his face, his mouth, all over him, taking in the way he smelled, the way he tasted—that he'd had this, that he knew what it felt like when Jensen came all over Jared's tongue— 

The smell of blueberries filled the cozy kitchen, and Jared's dream melted away. Jensen's fruity teas…Jared had hated the taste of any kind of tea until Jensen started drinking it. Now, it felt like his duty to drink a cup every morning. He emptied the cup, rinsed it out and set it into the dish rack to dry before setting up the coffee pot to brew. Jensen hadn't had tea with him for a long time, anyway, way before he'd…yeah. Jared scrubbed his hair back with shaking hands. After all this time, still trying to get used to a world without Jensen in it.

The rest of the morning passed without event. He cleaned up a bit, paid some bills, pushed paint around on a canvas…something he'd just started doing again after years of…not. So far, it was a huge white square, covered with sporadic blotches of color. It wasn't much yet, and might not ever be, but it felt good to have brush in his hand again, feel the scrape of his knife pushing acrylics around the canvas. 

After a few hours, his legs stiffened and he felt the tiny twinge in his lower back that was a warning…sit any longer and the twinges would become full fledged spasms. He stood and wandered a bit and hoped like hell Josh and his kid weren't going to—

"Uncle Jared!" 

—show up.

~J2J~

**THEN**  
He had that whole summer to worry about the first day of school, and worry he did. It was frightening, just like it always was, but more than that, it was the first day of _Fifth Grade._

JT just knew he wouldn't be able to handle fifth grade. This was the big kids' grade: no more naps, no more snacks, no more coloring sheets or Book Circle. It was too hard, it was going to be too hard; he wasn't smart enough, the only thing he was good at was reading, not that his teachers knew that. He kept quiet, small in the back of the class. He knew his brain wasn't fast enough to figure things out. The teacher said things and he could _feel_ her words bouncing off his thick skull and falling to the floor. His momma always said he had a thick skull. He wasn't sure if that meant she thought he was stupid or just that he was hard to hurt, but really, it wasn't that hard to hurt him. He hurt a million times a day in a million ways. Sometimes he wondered if maybe…maybe if he'd been smarter, Daddy wouldn't be just a voice at the end of a phone line—he sucked in a shaky breath as the class room shimmered. Someone came up on his side and he cringed inside, waited to be hurt some more. 

"JT…would you like to get a drink of water?"

He looked up into Mrs. Winters' soft brown eyes and nodded. The breath he'd had trapped in his throat came out slow and easy, not at all like the bag of rocks it had felt like in his chest. She handed him the hall-pass and whispered, "You will do just fine, JT. There's no reason why you shouldn't, and I expect it of you."

Somehow, that made it all better. 

All through the fifth grade, Mrs. Winters made it plain that there was nothing wrong with JT's brain. If there was a lesson he took away with him at the end of that year, it was this: he was sure now he wasn't stupid—he might have a thick skull, but there was nothing wrong with the brain inside it. He was grateful to Mrs. Winters for her faith in him, proud that he could show her just how well he could learn, and not just schoolwork either. He learned to keep his head up, and to look trouble right in the eye. 

Still, all that looking trouble in the eye didn't help much when trouble decided it was going to jump JT from behind and kick his ass after school. JT ducked and swung back at the kids who were steadily beating the crap out of him. JT had to admit that his attempts at punching back were lame—more like weak and kind of embarrassing slaps. He was gangly and uncoordinated, really not much of a fighter. What he was, was not a quitter. He kept at it, refused to give in—even with a bloody lip, bruised cheek, swelling nose, aching ribs—

"Hey! Get off that kid!" 

There was another body in the mix, but this was a brand new experience—for once, there was someone on _his_ side. With the odds not stacked so high in their favor and with the kid who'd jumped in on JT's side being so much more coordinated, it wasn't long before the bullies took off running.

"So. You gonna let me apologize now, or what?" 

JT blinked, and the fog that filled his brain lifted some; the body wasn't just a body now. It was his neighbor, Jason, the boy with the blond hair and the wicked smile and the quick laugh. There was a bloody smear under his nose, and his shirt was torn, the collar hanging loose around his neck. He was grinning through the dirt and blood and JT's chest just…squeezed, like someone reached inside him and pumped his heart in their fist. He tried to be casual about the whole thing, especially about the hot blush that he could feel painting him red. He shrugged, tried to smooth his face into a blank, 'I'm pretending I'm not really here' look—although it'd only ever had spotty success for him. 

The annoying neighbor boy cocked an eyebrow at him, shoved back hair sweat-pasted to his forehead and cheeks. The move revealed freckles—dozens of them—and a really pretty pair of moss-green eyes. "Really? You still gotta think about it?" the boy snorted. "Even after I saved your life and all?" 

JT just gawped at him—he'd never noticed those freckles before. Probably had not ever been close enough to see how they were just _everywhere,_ or to see what an interesting color the boy's _—Jason's—_ eyes were.

He grinned down at JT, and JT decided it was an odd but _nice_ feeling, to smile at someone and having them smile back without capping it with a shove or a curse. JT squinted up at Jason from his spot in the dirt. He shrugged, dipped his head again and sighed, and just—gave in. 

"You're welcome," Jason said, with a wicked grin so wide it made his eyes crinkle. Jared refused to find it cute.

*

JT's momma was horrified at JT's bloody lip and his red nose and bruised cheek, but she was more than happy to welcome the neighbor boy when he guided JT up his own porch stairs and calmly, seriously, explained what had happened, all with a show of manners that had JT and his momma both raising their eyebrows.

"I hope you'll excuse me, ma'am, for not introducing myself properly," the boy said and held his hand out. "I'm from next door? Jensen Ross Ackles."

JT could see his momma just about chew through her lip—he knew what that meant. She was holding in a laugh—a heck of a big one, judging by the way her cheeks went all pink. Before JT could scowl at her, she took the boy's—who was a _Jensen,_ not a Jason—scruffed-up hand and said, "You know what, you just call me Miss Sherrie, okay? Thanks so much for stickin' up for my JT, Jensen Ross. Sit down and have some cookies with us—just made them, fresh."

The very thought blew away the last chilly feeling he harbored towards Jensen Ross. This was excellent news, share-worthy news. "Ooo, Momma, that's wonderful. Jensen Ross, wait until you taste Momma's cookies. She's the best cook in all the world."

Jensen Ross gave JT a look at that, and he knew it meant that Jensen Ross didn't quite believe him. JT just smiled contentedly and sat back to wait and watch Momma's positively _magic_ cookie-making powers make him see the light….

Jensen Ross looked a little sad, said, "Thank you, Miss Sherrie…my mom doesn’t have a lot of time to make cookies anymore, not since we moved here and she had to go to work…I miss that…" He looked up with a smile, "but I know she'd make them if she could." He reached for one of the offered cookies, a chocolate-chocolate chip, and took a bite. His big, green eyes got even bigger—they just about sparkled with surprised delight. JT understood that feeling well. 

"Oh, wow—these are the best cookies I've ever tasted—I mean—don't tell my mom,"Jensen gasped, the hand not clutching his cookie flying up to cover his mouth and then dropping to his chest. "It's true though," he said, blushing as he did.

Momma smiled like the sun, and so did JT. He couldn't help but smile at Jensen Ross, the way he so honestly appreciated Momma's cookies, the way his eyes shone like…well, like the sun, and the way his hand pressed against his chest like he could barely keep his heart in. 

Right then and there, JT fell in love. For the first time in his life, JT thought that he might finally have found a friend. He was sure that Jensen Ross was going to be his best friend. He hoped with all his heart that Jensen Ross felt that way, too. 

Momma sent Jensen Ross home with a basket of cookies and an invitation for his momma to come visit when she could, and at the doorway, she patted him on the head. "Well now, you come visit anytime you want, Jensen Ross." She wrinkled her nose, and said, "That sure is a mouthful. We should call you JR, the way we call Jared Tristan JT."

JT cringed at Momma saying his whole foolish name out loud, but he laughed a little too, and so did Jensen Ross.

"JR. I like it," he said.

JT hung over the porch rail to wave good-bye. "Oh, I forgot to say, I accept your apology," he called.

JR grinned wide and winked at JT. "Well, I knew that," he said.

~J2J~

**NOW**  
Ross wanted to wear Jared's firehelmet and fireman's coat for Halloween. Jared didn't mind, he wasn't particularly sentimental about the damn things—mostly he was worried about Ross's little legs carrying the weight.

He pointed Ross to the hall closet and a military style footlocker sitting in the bottom of it. Ross flipped open the heavy clasps and started pawing through the trunk while Jared hooked a couple of beers out of the fridge. Passing one off to Josh, he dropped down next to him on the couch and they spent the next half hour catching up on each other and watching Ross turn up 'treasures'.

Ross dropped a much abused fireman's jacket to the floor, moved on from the foot locker to a cardboard banker's box. Jared's gut twisted. That was one of the boxes Danni had dropped off not long after Jensen…not long after the funeral. He'd barely glanced through them himself—basically just pulled the tops off, covered them again and shoved them back in the corner. He thought about asking Ross not to mess with it, but…he shrugged. What the heck. It was just stuff, bits of his and Jensen's history that Jensen had thought was important enough to save. Someday, he was going to have to go through that box…but not today.

"Uncle Jay, why is there a picture of you wearing a dress?"

Jared choked on an ill-timed swallow. "A dress? It's probably my graduation pic—oh. No, that's a dress all right. Um…we used to dress up funny when I was a kid. I—um."

Josh was biting his lip, trying not to laugh. "Your uncle was a special flower back then. Now, he's a grumpy old fart who's no fun at all."

"Yeah, thanks for that, you di—dork."

Ross dug through another of the boxes. "Hey, Uncle Jay, what's this?" He hefted something wrapped in a sweatshirt, looked like—unwrapped, he held what looked like a little metal suitcase, covered with dials.

Jared experienced a short, sharp burst of grief so intense it froze him, inside and out—like being drop-kicked off a dock into a lake of ice water.

"Hey, give me that," Josh said. "Don't—don't want that breaking." His voice shook, and tears made his eyes glimmer for a moment before he blinked them away. "That belongs to your other uncle—you remember, my brother." Josh was holding a ham radio, an old-fashioned ham radio that had belonged to Jensen. Jared stared at it, remembering Jensen seated at his beat-up old desk, hunched over the set and murmuring late into the night….

"Sure," Ross said, "Uncle JR. The hero." and Jared agreed.

"The hero." He hadn't saved anyone—there'd been no one to save. But he'd chosen to go back, believing there was someone…and that made him a hero.

*

He was sleepless—restless—long after Josh and Ross left. Thoughts of Jensen, such vivid memories that wouldn't let him rest. He grabbed his jacket and went outside to the yard, stretched out in the grass, and let all the ridiculous fantasies he'd ever had about his life with Jensen fill him. The sky was black, the stars were thinly scattered overhead, and he wondered, staring up, if Jensen was looking down on him, if he knew just how much Jared missed him, how he felt like there was a huge, gaping Jensen-shaped hole in him.

"God, you're such an idiot," he said out loud, his voice catching on an unexpected sob. "Such a fool." 

He rolled back to his feet and head towards the house. Glancing upwards once more, he staggered when the whole sky suddenly seemed washed with a fast-moving, shimmering curtain of colors—like a video he'd seen of the Northern Lights. It was gone so quickly he wondered if he'd imagined it…maybe there was something wrong with his eyes. He rubbed at them, but the sky was clear—whatever it had been, if it was real, was gone. "Hunh…" 

He reached for the deck railing and somehow missed it by a mile, tried to take the first step and nearly fell when he set his foot down wrong. What the hell—he was off by an entire step. Suddenly, it felt like the whole world took a queasy dip to the right; he staggered, flailing for purchase. Dropped heavily to his knees as a jagged bolt of pain screwed its way up his back.

"Damn it!" Grabbing the railing, he crawled back upright, and by the time he was on the step again, the world stopped wobbling and he was fine. Shaken, but fine. His back was thankfully not going into spasms, his legs burned—the healing skin had taken a beating, but small favors—he could walk, not crawl, back into the house. 

Maybe the aurora was due to a delayed reaction to his meds—he should cut down on that stuff, no matter what the doctors said. He didn't like this feeling at all.

~J2J~

**THEN**  
From that day on, the day JR rescued JT, the boys were thick as thieves. By eighth grade, people said JT and JR like they were saying peanut butter and jelly, or rock and roll.

Having to run home, having to hide all the time became a thing of the past for JT. Not that all the kids—and some of the adults—stopped teasing him, giving him the side-eye, and sometimes worse. 

Granted, JT thought, it was no surprise he was a target. No surprise that people thought he brought it on himself, deserved it, even. He knew he was kind of different. He'd known it for as long as he could remember. His momma liked to say he was singular, and unique…although she usually said it with a worried little smile. 

It was true enough. He marched to a beat only he could hear. He was the only boy he knew who liked drawing things that weren't cars or sports or comic book heroes; he liked wearing pink and stuff that sparkled and neon-colored bracelets, thought that one day he'd move to San Francisco maybe, or some place where he could paint and draw what he wanted, where it wouldn't be odd for him to paint his toenails and stuff and no one would say, _JT oh my god honey you go change because you are *not* leaving the house like that._

Even so, his best friend was pretty cool about all of it, and even though quite a bit about JT must have seemed odd, JR was right there, had his back all the time—no matter what. Even through that disastrous experiment with blonde tips…all JT can imagine is that JR took a vow to be his friend no matter what ridiculous thing JT did…and here they were, still best friends. Forever.

~J2J~

JT stared at himself in the hall mirror, pulled his hair back from his face, staring long and hard at his reflection, searching…"Momma, do you think…there's anything wrong with me?"

His momma was hanging her handbag on the coat rack by the front door. She froze, back straight as a stick for a moment or two, before she turned to JT. She gave him a smile that was kind of scary, it was so wide and so forced. "Now JT, why would you even ask that, honey?" 

"Because I see people when they think I'm not looking—I see them when they _are_ looking. Some of them pick at the way I act or the way I dress or the way I talk." JT frowned. "I'm not blind, Momma. I know they don't like me much when I'm not with JR."

"Well, so what, JT. You have your own sense of style, honey. Lots of people do—lots of people wish they were as bold as you. It's okay to be yourself—it's important to be yourself. Just…" She shrugged her shoulders, and her voice went softer when she said, "Some people aren't going to like it. You know that."

JT nodded. "That's what Daddy says. He says ignore them because they're fat-headed idiots."

"Well, sometimes even Daddy's right. So, what, you plan on working your way through the family asking questions?"

"No," JT laughed briefly, softly, "I just…" he sighed and wound down into silence. 

His momma put her hands on her hips and stared JT up and down like she'd never seen him before, her one eyebrow crooked, her lips pushed out a bit. She smiled at last and spread her arms, waiting until JT sidled up, embarrassed, bent a bit so she could wrap him up in a hug. He was too old by far for his momma to be treating him that way, like a little kid—but oh, he wanted a hug something _fierce._

She cupped JT's face in her hands. "Baby, you know sometimes I might seem a little…concerned. But I'm concerned _for_ you, not _because_ of you. I know people can be cruel. They can be—can be— _assholes"_ she snapped, and JT flinched in her hold, shocked to hear his momma curse—and kind of secretly amused by it, too. 

"I know you're strong enough to deal with whatever comes your way, JT. I just…mothers don't want their babies to hurt—ever."

He nodded, closed his eyes and leaned into her a bit, comforted by her familiar rose/honey scent, her warmth, the weight of her arms around his shoulders. He wasn't quite sure what he should say to that, but it was just… _nice…_ to know that no matter what, his momma still loved him. 

Still there were days when JT woke up doubting himself…times when his momma would look sad, or try to cover up a frustrated look or when a stranger's nasty words cut like a knife. Even JR's parents looked askance at JT. Sometimes JT thought they'd kind of prefer he and Jensen Ross weren't as close as they were…except for Josh. Everyone but Josh seemed real uncertain, or positively disapproving about JT. JR's brother, he was a dick. But, he was also kind of…he could be a good guy. Was a good guy. Sometimes, JT needed Josh with his rough, non-judgmental affection just as much as he needed JR. Not that wild horses could drag that out of him—Josh's head was big enough as it was.

~J2J~


	2. Chapter 2

2

**NOW**  
The canvas was slowly becoming a painting. Sporadic blotches of color became shimmering swathes of grays; shadows, maybe…or water…or maybe rain, sheeting across blocks and rectangles that were becoming solid, turning into a street scene, a city block…Jared tilted his head, peering at what was growing with what felt like very little input from himself. "Hunh…" _Interesting,_ he thought, and went to clean his knives, his brushes.

Momma called midmorning, asked Jared what he was doing and if he felt up to going out for lunch. He needed a reason to leave the canvas before his back flared up, so he said yes. Besides, he missed her. She'd been great about not hovering when he got out of the hospital. He knew it pained her not to be there twenty-four seven, but she'd agreed and had left him, more or less, to his own devices. That's what made his momma amazing. She actually listened to him, and understood him more often than not.

He showered, made it slow and leisurely. He had some time before lunch…his thoughts wandered, as they did all too often, to Jensen. Of course, this day his brain decided to bring up the one time, the only time that he'd thought he might have had some chance. The way Jensen had touched him, made him come…and after had cried, and then…well, _fuck._ That was a boner killer. He grimaced as his burgeoning erection wilted, sighed. His whole body hated him. Well, maybe it was for the best. He wasn't sure he'd have time to jerk off anyway, and then he'd worry his momma might suddenly develop ESP and know what'd he'd done before lunch. 

Jared picked out a nice outfit, something Momma would like, brushed his hair as flat as possible—he was way overdue a haircut. Hell, he was way overdue taking care of himself at all. He considered the skin and hair care products he'd once thought were so important, and debated tossing them all. He shook his head, and shut the bathroom door behind him. 

It wasn't long before he heard the sound of his momma's car pulling into the drive. She beeped, and he headed out the front door with an answering grin. He slid into the front seat of her purple Scion XB, or as he affectionately called it, The Ugly Little Toaster. She smacked his arm every time he said it, but her eyes sparkled. At least his momma thought he was funny.

They went to a little café downtown—a place that served the best sandwiches and desserts ever. They both liked going there because the meat was sliced fresh for each sandwich, and a lot of the cheeses and breads they used were locally made. Momma was especially impressed that the tomatoes on her sandwich were grown right outside of town, practically in her backyard. 

JT went up to the counter when their number was called and brought their food and drinks to the table. He kissed her on the forehead as he set the tray down. "I'm glad you suggested lunch, Momma. I was hungry," he laughed. 

"Humph." She spread her napkin over her lap and glared at him. "I swear, JT, that had better not be the sole reason you came out with me."

"And because I missed you." Jared grinned, winked at her, and attacked his sandwich. 

They were most of the way through lunch, picking at their desserts when his momma asked, "JT, baby, have you seen Josh and his family recently? How's he doing, is he doing okay?" Josh had been blindsided by Jensen's loss and Momma had spent a lot of time being the soft shoulder that Josh's own mother was suffering too much to be.

"Josh is better; he's doing pretty good now. In fact, Josh and Ross were over the other day—Ross had fun digging through my footlocker—ended up going through those stupid boxes Danni dropped off last year."

"That was the first time you'd opened them? Weren't you wondering what was left after Danni took all JR's stuff and threw out anything that wasn't worth something?"

"Momma," he scolded, but not really. "Nah, not so much," Jared said. "Anything that was important to us, I already had. He'd brought some stuff over not long before…not long before he died. Said he wanted me to have it in case something ever…said he doubted Danni would care enough to. ah, give them to me. It's sad that Danni felt that way. It would have been nice to be able to share the memories, you know, after…"

His momma stared at him like he was crazy. "She was _jealous,_ honey. She was jealous as can be and that's why she hated you, because she was a stingy person. Always had been." 

Jared waved that away—whatever Danni was or wasn't didn’t matter anymore. It actually kind of warmed his heart that his momma had never thought that anyone but Jared was good enough for Jensen. But when he was once again at home, he remembered what it had been like between them all, and felt sad. He wished he'd fought for Jensen instead of taking the road of least resistance. Who knows…in a fair fight, he might have won.

~J2J~

**THEN**  
Jared beat on the Ackles' front door—once, twice, and then folded all his long, bony self up against the door frame, whistling slightly out of tune and waiting. A few minutes later he heard feet pounding down a set of stairs and across the foyer, and he stumbled over the threshold as the door flew inwards. Josh stood there, staring blankly for a second or two before shouting, "JR, yer boyfriend's at the door."

Jared flipped Josh off. "Dude, why are you such an ass?" He felt the brief pinch of panic that zinged him every time Josh goofed around like that. Like maybe this was the time Josh finally saw just how Jared really felt about his little brother. 

Josh went on like he hadn't even heard Jared. Shaking his head, he said, "Dude. No flowers, no chocolate, I shouldn't let my little brother date you— _ow!"_

Jensen had entered the room and he elbowed Josh out of the way—hard. "You _are_ an ass, Josh." He waited until Josh strolled away, giggling to himself, before leaning close and jabbing Jared in the stomach. "Jay-red, you have to come look at this—I swear it's the coolest thing in the world." 

He and Jensen went up to Jensen's room, where Jensen poked excitedly at something sitting on the old desk that had been his grandfather's, something that hummed and glowed softly in the gloom of his room.

Jared threw himself down on Jensen's bed and fished his sketchbook out from under the mattress where he stashed it. "Jen, you called me over here to look at a…what the heck is it? I thought you finally got the Dark City video." Jared pouted until Jensen threw a pen at him. 

"No. First of all, that movie was crap and besides, this is even better. It's a ham radio, JT. Granddad gave it to me."

"Fuck you, it was a great movie—and can you _please_ fuckin' drop the 'JT'; 'm not a little kid, dude." Jared settled himself in, finding the drawing he'd been working on last—a loose, sketchy portrait of Jensen. After a few moments, he looked Jensen's way. "So, you were saying your Granddad gave you the radio? What's so hammy about it? It looks _weird."_

"Shut up," Jensen muttered, and fiddled with it for a bit. "Ha—there!" 

Static crackled out of the small round speaker. Jared raised an eyebrow. "Wow, that sounds like…fun." 

"You're fun," Jensen muttered, and fiddled with dials and things that Jared didn't understand and wasn't sure he wanted to. He shoved the sketchbook back under the mattress and pulled the American Artist magazine he'd swiped from the library out of his waistband and started flipping through the pages. Jensen looked over and huffed. Threw another pen at Jared—Jared deflected it with the magazine.

"You with the frou-frou shit all the time. Read something, y'know—'bout cars, sports…something not…I don't wanna say gay…."

Jared winced, speared by the crazily painful burst of emotion spiking his chest. Right behind the pain came a deep thrum of fear—he ignored it, pain and fear both. He was fucking used to it by now, hell, it was practically a daily occurrence at this point in his life, so—"Yeah, fuck you, having some class doesn't make you gay," he growled. "It's ART, you ball-scratching Philistine. You know—the thing I'm seriously into?"

"Hey, not a phil—phila—don't scratch my balls in public—fuck you, I don't, bitch." He laughed at Jared's skeptical look. He quieted after a moment, hemmed and hawed a bit before finally saying, "So, um, dude…you know that Rachel girl…? She was asking about you…for like the millionth time."

Jared looked over the edge of the magazine, trying to figure out just what the expression was on Jen's face. "Oh. Really? Or were you matchmaking again?"

"No, for real, she asked about you. Things like, were you going to the dance, and who were you going with, y'know. She likes you, man, lotta girls like you."

"No, they don't, Jared snorted. "They like making _fun_ of me." He'd had enough of that all through grade school and freakin' middle school, too, thanks. 

"Jay, man…you're not that scrawny, shaggy-ass, little kid everyone and their granny could kick around, not anymore. Hell, haven't been that for a long time. You're like…this _huge_ scrawny, shaggy-ass kid who for some reason girls find cute or whatever."

"Not like you, though," Jared said before he could catch himself.

Jensen immediately struck a modeling pose, threw his head back and pursed his lips in a way that was supposed to be funny, but damn if it didn't send a jolt right to Jared's dick _…those cheekbones, the taut sweep of that neck…_

Jensen laughed, "Oh yeah, man, I'm hot as hell—not." 

"It is really sad how plain you are. I despair for your sex life," Jared said, raising the magazine to cover his blush. He laughed when another pen flew over the top of it and hit him in the forehead. "Whatever, truth hurts. Leave me alone and play with your ham."

"It sounds nasty when you say it like that, dude," Jensen snickered, totally amusing himself, and slowly forgetting Jared was even there as he transferred all his attention to the radio, humming contentedly to himself. 

Jared wondered, not for the first time, just how masochistic he could possibly be. He thumbed through the slightly raggedy copy of American Artist. It was interesting, gave him ideas. Not that he had any illusions about making a living in art…hell, lately thinking about anything to do with his future had done nothing but confuse him. Lately, he wondered what Jen thought about his future. He'd been strangely close-mouthed about stuff in general.

He heard Jensen talking to someone on the hammy radio thing, and heard him mention his "best friend, Jared." That made him feel a little less neglected. He wished that he could be Jen's focus all the time. Jared got that that was selfish and never going to happen, and yeah…he flapped the magazine shut and threw it down. On the ignored TV across the room, some girl with super-model cheekbones smiled at him and promised that he'd find his dream man if only he rubbed this gunk in his pits, or was he supposed to wash his hair with it…fuck. She looked bland as hell and he thought that reinforced that he was probably…definitely…gay. 

At this point in his life, he was less interested in pink and sparkles and purple toenails than he had been—like, almost not at all. Well okay, he still did his toes from time to time…a little eyeliner, occasionally some moisturizing gloss for his lips….

But, he also kinda liked basketball and engineer boots and leather jackets, and wished he was less thin and weedy and could fucking grow a beard—which made him wonder if he was really gay, because any gay guy he saw on TV tended to be…shrill. Something he wasn't like…not much. And those guys didn't really turn him on, not like…fuck, not like Jen. Not like a few guys in school, most of them jocks, and all of them one hundred per cent straight. Because as far as he knew, he was the only gay person at school, probably in the fucking town. Probably the only damn fool who had doubts about their sexuality. Hell, Jensen sure didn't. Slut.

His 'good old, knew him since he was knee-high to a grasshopper, best-friend-for-life' Jensen, who couldn't ever seem to get it through his pretty but dense skull that his best friend was, and had always been, gay. That it hadn't been Jared going through some weird childhood phase. Jared mulled over the idea of convincing Jensen once and for all that he was gay, and not likely to ever want to date the girls Jen constantly put in his path—maybe he should just go for it, sit Jen down and tell him just how unlikely it was. That Rachel, as opposed to…to…Brad Pitt, was totally uninteresting. How he'd dropkick Rachel in a hot minute for one single moment with a naked Brad Pitt. Hell, for a few seconds with Brad Pitt zipped up in a floor-length damn parka and wearing oven mitts….

He sighed. He didn't get why Jensen had this… _giant_ blind spot so far as he went. To Jensen, his My Little Pony t-shirts and purple nail polish just meant Jared being… _Jared._ Who somehow, despite the whole make-up wearing thing, the Justin Timberlake-worshipping, and half the clothes in his closet being various shades of pink or purple, was not gay. 

It was as if Jen had a superpower and it was Denial. Massive amounts of it. 

Jared sighed, feeling like it came from his toes and rolled through his whole body before finally escaping. He tossed the magazine aside, heaved himself off the bed and to his feet. "Heading out."

Jensen looked at him oddly, as if he'd forgotten Jared was even there. His brows scrunched together and he frowned slightly. After a second or two, he just nodded and turned his attention back on the ham radio. Jared shrugged. Clearly friend-time was over. "See ya."

*

Later that evening, Jen called him and asked him again to think about going to the dance, with a note of pleading in his voice that Jared was genetically unable to resist. Jared rolled his eyes at the phone and said, "Sure, dude. I'm down for whatever."

"What're you, my ride or die chick? Gonna make me buy ya a big gold chain with your name on it?" 

"You wish." At Jen's laugh, Jared cursed to himself. The ass always got him with that damn laugh. "Yeah, yeah, shut up, I'm coming. But if I die of boredom, it'll be your fault."

Lately, parties involved Jen dancing with some girl, or hanging with the guys they were both supposedly friends with, though if you took Jared out of the equation, nothing changed—he was sure his subtraction wouldn't make a ripple. Jared spent a lot of party-time couch hugging, drinking gallons of soda or punch or sometimes beer, depending on how much the parents desperately wanted to be buddies with their kids. From middle school into high school, the parties became progressively more daunting, more pathetic—at least Jared thought so. There was more alcohol, more grinding, more kids disappearing into backyards and steaming up car windows and dry-humping on the couch next to Jared, who just sat paralyzed, miserably sucking down coke or crappy beer. Saying no to the fun-fests was not an option, according to his best friend in all the world. His dear best friend Jensen, who'd graduated from childhood to a brand new world full of happy clouds of hormones and alcohol and pot. A big fucking deal. Everybody's buddy, every girl's sweetheart.

Who knew that Jensen Ross would grow up to be such a goddamn golden boy? And what was Jared complaining about, really? Wasn't like he'd been dumped with the ThunderCats and the GI Joes and all the rest of their childhood stuff. Nope, Jen had dragged him right along into the spotlight with him—football, basketball—all stuff twelve-year old JT would have laughed his ass off about. 

Sports, parties, popularity;JT hadn't ever wanted any of that, hadn't cared about that. But Jared loved Jensen stupidly and would do anything Jen wanted, anything—including get his heart shredded over and over and over again, until by the time they entered high school, he knew there wasn't a fucking chance in hell he'd ever be able to escape Jensen's gravitational pull.

Sports actually turned out to be something Jared was good at; he was rather surprised by this, to say nothing of his parents shock. Jared had expected some tiresome bonding over it, but his dad was just…really puzzled, and kept asking him if he really liked it and was he doing it because he wanted to or because he felt he had to. His dad always seemed more enthusiastic over his art than his games, and Jared loved his dad even more because of that. 

Still, the old man was supportive, if puzzled. He came to almost all the games, and what games he couldn't make his mom came to. It was…cool. It was nice to get attention that didn't involve being shoved in a locker or pelted with food. And there was this: he was taller than almost everyone in school, he actually had gained some muscle mass and it was much harder now to knock him down a flight of stairs.

Jensen was thrilled that Jared was finally stepping out of the shadows and making a name for himself. Whatever. Jared thought all of it was stupid, but in the end, kind of worth it because Jensen in his football gear was hot enough to set concrete on fire. 

Jensen with a smile on his face, in his eyes— _proud_ of Jared, was worth everything in the damn world.

*

The day of the dance found Jared in a frenzy in his room, carrying on like a middle school girl. He'd gone through the contents of his closet like he was getting tested on it, spent hours trying on clothes, messing with his hair. One of the magazines he liberated from the library insisted in a kind of shrill way that choosing a color to compliment some special feature like his eyes or hair color was just the thing to make a guy notice. He held a grey and white striped shirt up to his chin, frowning. Jared rolled his eyes at himself before tossing the shirt on his bed. Yeah. What color complemented _dork,_ because that was the most outstanding thing about himself. Maybe he should find something that complimented his moles…maybe he should try brushing his bangs to the other side…maybe he should just stay the hell home.

His momma came in at one point and gently suggested that maybe Jared was putting a little too much thought into what was just a school dance; a school-sanctioned activity basically designed to keep them off the street and out of their parents' hair for a couple of hours. 

Jared turned to his momma, eyebrows climbing his head. "I'm not over-thinking, Momma—I want to look good. Besides, I have a da—a da—" he stumbled over the words, blushing furiously, feeling like an idiot.

"A date?" his momma deciphered his stammering. "A date…with whom?"

"Mmm, Rachel, a friend of JR's, Jen's, unh, girlfriend." Whose name Jared could not recall for the life of him.

"I…see," his momma said. She looked puzzled, briefly hopeful, and Jared couldn’t stand it.

"Momma, I'm going with this girl because Jensen wants me to. I'm not…I'm not interested in girls. At all. Ever."

His momma's eyes went shiny; she rubbed a fingertip over her mouth and after a moment, she settled her hands on Jared's shoulders, making him stoop to meet her eyes. She smiled. "Well, of course I know that, JT. Honey…it's not going to matter much what you wear, you know that, right? I mean, not the way you want it to." 

She peered into his eyes, and Jared blinked rapidly, knowing his momma wasn't out to hurt him, that she was saying it as gently as she could, but it still hurt. He swallowed hard, said. "Momma, you know you didn't raise no fool."

She laughed softly—sadly—and hugged him hard. "I know, baby, I know. Now get dressed—you know Josh will stand on the horn if you're not at the door when he pulls up."

"Yeah, and then make me chase after the car halfway down the darn street. Jackass."

"JT! Language!" His mother scolded, trying to hide a laugh. Get dressed, you!"

*

The dance went pretty much like Jared thought it would, no surprise there.

Josh drove them to the school, laughing at them all the way. Amused himself by offering ridiculous, gross, and Jared had to admit, funny suggestions on how to get laid. It would have been even funnier if Jensen's girlfriend hadn't been sitting between the two of them, sweating out her curls and blushing a furious red. 

After having suffered all the humiliation possible at Josh's hands, Jared and Jensen and—whatever his girlfriend's name was—piled out of the car and into the school's all-purpose room. This night, all the chairs had been stacked and shoved in the corners, the low stage towards the rear wall was dark and fairly decent music was coming from the speakers scattered throughout the room.

They elbowed their way through the groups clumped here and there until they met up with Rachel, who definitely was a cute girl; she was short, curvy, with chestnut ringlets that curled around her face and fell to her shoulders. Jared sighed. She looked like a nice girl; if she really did like him, it was a shame her evening was about to disappoint her. 

Jensen grabbed her by her shoulder, shoved her right into Jared's space and said, "Hey Rachel, you know JT, right? He's in Bobbie's art class—" Jared blinked. _Jen's girl's name was Bobbie?—_

He quickly pasted on a smile and corrected him, "Jared—that's me."

Jensen looked at him like he was crazy. "Yeah, but…we call him JT, so…."

_"Called,_ past tense," Jared interrupted. "Used to call me JT. Grade school stuff," he said and winked at Rachel, who blushed and giggled. He knew he was being kind of an ass, but something about the way Jensen was acting just pissed Jared off. 

They had a good time, though whenever he caught sight of Jensen's face, he looked…annoyed, or maybe pissed. That is, when it wasn't pressed into Bambie—Bobbie's—neck. Jared shrugged. He didn’t get it. If Jen liked Rachel himself, he shouldn’t have pushed her on Jared. Rachel and he talked a lot and danced a time or two—Jared bemoaning how uncoordinated he was and she kind of generally agreeing, but in a sweet, laughing way that made Jared feel good about himself. It was a real skill Rachel had, and Jared admired it. They ended the night with a brief, dry kiss, and only a vague promise to maybe get together sometime, much to Jared's relief. He decided to walk home from the dance instead of waiting for Jensen and Josh. He figured it'd be a better way to end his evening, seeing as how Boobie—Bobbie—was standing alone on the dance floor, looking pissed as hell with Jen nowhere in sight. Jared heaved a giant sigh as he swung out the side door, crossing the parking lot in back of the school. 

Jensen had a tendency to be kind of an asshole when it came to girls, and Jared had somehow fallen into the role of peacemaker. Explainer…enabler, that was the word. Jensen was too pretty for his own good. And too sweet, too funny, too sexy—too friendly by far and oblivious to the point of stupidity. He had no idea what effect he had on…fucking everyone, Jared sighed. "Fuck me," he muttered out loud. 

Jared trudged down the dark, quiet streets, his thoughts running in circles around the subject of Jensen Ross Ackles. If only, god, if only Jensen was even a little bit bi, if he'd open up those big green eyes and just _look_ for once…

By the time Jared made it home, he'd worked himself into a frazzle and was absolutely exhausted, body and soul. His momma didn’t make it any better by looking over his shoulder when he came in and asking where JR was.

*

The next morning, Jensen called, worried about Jared and why he hadn't ridden back with Josh and him.

"Actually, probably best that you didn't," he told Jared with an embarrassed little laugh. 

Jared barely stopped himself from moaning. "Jensen…."

"It wasn't my fault! Bobbie went a little whacko when she, ah, kinda stumbled over me and Liz—that girl in your art class, you know the one…" Jensen sighed. "I never said we were _dating_ kind of dating, I never said that to her—we were just, you know, hanging out. She's great and all, but we were just having fun—"

Jared let the soothing sound of Jensen's voice wash over him, basically tuning out his pathetic excuses and just concentrating on the fact that he'd been well and truly dumped by Bobbie and currently wasn't having sex with Liz in a closet somewhere, which meant that all Jensen's attention would be focused on _him._ And he was just that pathetic a bozo to be thrilled about that. Jared tried to keep the thrill out of his voice when he told Jen he was a bigger asshole than Josh. And he might as well come over for pizza because he had nothing else better to do, right?

Jared disconnected, and hit himself in the forehead with his phone. It was getting harder to pretend he could live with just being friends with Jensen.

~J2J~

**NOW**

Every time he walked through the living room, that damn ham radio Josh had left sitting out on one of the side tables caught Jared's eye. He swore the thing had eyes, was watching him move around the room. One night, after some decent snow peas and shrimp (and probably one more beer than he should have had), Jared finally gave in. He cleared a space off the desk next to his drafting table, found an outlet, and plugged the thing in. He sat at the desk, wincing at his reflection in the night-dark windows that ran the length of the room. "Shut up," he muttered to his reflection. "I'm not being pathetic, just…curious."

He poked at thing, frowning. It was just a mess of wires and dials and switches as far as he could see, and he had no real idea how it worked, but poking at it and flipping things made it light up and crackle. He closed his eyes and thought…Jen had liked this thing, devoted so much time to it. 

"Hello…hello," he whispered, tentative, waiting to be yelled at over the air, not really believing that it'd work. 

_Crackle_

_"Who is this? What's your call sign?"_

"Oh wow…is someone really there? This thing really works?"

"Yeah it works, and you're not registered. What are you doing on air?"

The voice, young and impatient, had to be a kid. And a cranky one at that. Jared smiled. "I just found it recently, remembered a friend who really liked it. I just…I just wanted to know what it was all about."

"Oh. So….what do you think?"

"I don’t know. Still trying it out. I—okay, I have no idea how this works. What are you doing on this thing…it's a Saturday night, shouldn't you be out binge drinking or something?"

"No!" The kid laughed. "No, I'm just in high school, just ending my sophomore year; got all summer to worry about being a junior. This past year was kinda tough, and I hear junior year gets really—um." The kid stopped and laughed softly, a laugh that did something to Jared's insides. "Sorry, I'm kind of a blabbermouth today."

Jared laughed, and heard another voice in the background, young too, but a little deeper. _"Today?"_ he heard, and the kid snorted. "Shut up," the kid said, his voice slightly muffled, as if his head was turned away from the mic, and then, clearly to Jared, "That was my friend. He's a jerk." 

_"Bitch"_ Jared heard—he laughed softly, shaking his head. It reminded him of himself and Jensen. "Okay," he said. "So…what am I supposed to have done before I started talking here?"

The kid went on to explain about licenses and call-signs and legalities. Jared liked listening to the kid. His voice was soothing in some way, made him feel more comfortable than he'd had in years.

"So, guy, got a name? I could call you Clueless Guy all night but—"

"But yeah, not so much. My name's Jared."

"Hey, my best friend's named Jared, too! That's weird, right? Kinda funny."

Jared felt an icy shiver down his back. "That is funny"…and not so weird. Jared was a common name, after all.

"Bet you've never heard my name before, it's—"

Static filled the room, the signal broke up and he lost the kid, and no amount of rolling up and down the dial brought him back. There was nothing, just straight static on all channels.

~J2J~

**THEN**  
"So, what are you up to tonight?"

It was hot, one of the hottest days of the summer so far. They were in Jared's back yard, spread-eagled on a ratty old blanket Jared had begged off his momma. There was a towel rolled up under his head, sunglasses cloaking his eyes and disguising his on and off perusal of Jensen in all his half-naked glory. The way the sun made all his freckles just so…golden, lit those ridiculous streaks of blonde in his hair. The way sweat made the long, thick strands of his bangs curl around his cheeks, and Jared was dying to push the hair back, wrap his fingers in those silly, sexy mess, and tug him closer, to touch, to smell…taste. Instead he kept his hands to himself, and settled for watching the way a little bead of sweat took its time trailing past the dusky rose peak of Jen's nipple; what he wouldn't give to be able to plant his tongue right on Jen's skin and chase that little drop—

"Wha—up? Up to—hunh? Oh…um, Momma's taking me to dinner at Red Lobster. Love those little biscuits, mmmm, all fluffy and buttery, the way they leave your fingers kinda slippery, just gotta lick that little bit of garlic and cheese right offa—"

"Yeah, _okay,_ Jesus, nobody wants to hear about your unnatural relationship with your food. Hey, why don’t you come with me to Mike's party after?"

"Mike?" Jared frowned. Mike and he didn't get along all that well. Mike seemed like…he wasn't a total jerk to Jared, but pretty close to it. Mike and _Jensen,_ on the other hand, were practically joined at the hip, they got along so well. Jared wasn't jealous about it, not at all, it was just…well, it was just annoying, and kind of stupid. And Mike drank a lot. His parties were always full of booze and heavy breathing behind closed bedroom doors and lots of disgusting gossip afterward. Bored, boring kids with too much money and time on their hands, that's what. 

"Man…I don’t know. Me and Mike…"

"No, it'll be fun, Jay. There'll be a ton of girls there, some guys you played ball with, and—and oh, hey, Tommy's gonna be there, he's back from his grandma's. You like him. God knows why. He's a boring, old fart, goody-fuckin'-two shoes. I don't get how him and Mike get along."

Jared didn't get it either, how did Tommy manage to be so tight with Mike? They seemed worlds apart in attitude and all—he also didn't get what Jensen's deal with the guy was. Tom wasn't a goody two-shoes; he was just a nice guy. A great guy, even—sweet, kind of quiet, but with a killer sense of humor. And hot. Fuck, so hot, _almost_ as hot as Jensen, with green eyes just as pretty, full lips, too….

And man, his shoulders, shit, the guy was built. He was also dating a nice little girl, so…off limits. Just as fucking straight as Jensen. 

Jared sighed heavily. He couldn't catch a damn break; he was cursed to crush on straight guys forever. 

His stomach did a slow, queasy roll at the thought, and he twisted to face away from Jen. This goddamn town was killing him. It fuckin' sucked being gay, party of one. And what the hell, he growled to himself—wasn't that statistically impossible? The odds would have to toss up at least one or two other guys who were gay…had to. Where were they, goddamnit?

Jensen elbowed him hard—apparently Jared wasn't giving His Highness the attention he deserved. He tuned in again, to find that Jensen was bitching away about how he was burning to a fire engine-red, while Jared had the nerve to be tanning all fucking model-perfect and—

Jared thumbed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, the better to peer over the top of them at Jensen. "You think I look like a model?'

Jensen recoiled like Jared had stabbed him with a barbecue fork. "What? Hah! No! You _tan_ like a model. But you look like foot. Like, a giant, pimply foot, in a cheap-ass wig."

"Kiss my ass," Jared huffed, and squelched his ridiculous disappointment, and also his stupid urge to laugh despite feeling kind of hurt. Jen poked him with his foot, digging his toes right into Jared's gut, like that wasn't creepy as fuck. 

"You know you wanna laugh," he teased, and Jared couldn't help but let it out. It pissed him off, and at the same time, made him feel all warm and loose inside, just how well Jensen knew him. He wanted so badly to grab Jen's stupid foot and press it to his stomach, wrap his hands around those strangely delicate ankles and just…feel. 

Jensen pulled his foot out of Jared's grip, but rolled until their shoulders were pressed together. Jared closed his eyes and felt Jen's sun-warmed skin against his. He smelled good, like coconut and sweet-salt Jensen sweat. Jensen moved and their skin slid together, slow, slippery and hot. Every breath sent beads of sweat rolling down their arms but Jensen didn't move away. It almost felt like he was pressing even closer— 

_Fuck._ Tingles crept through him—he was getting hard. He shoved Jen away and rolled to his belly. "I'm sleeping now, so shut up. And yeah, I'll go to Mike's with you. But I better have a good time, asshole."

"Oh, honey, I got your good time right here," Jensen said with a snicker and Jared didn't look over because he knew the bastard was grabbing his dick. Jared buried his face in his arms and tried to be subtle about rolling his hips against the blanket. _Stupid Jensen._

~J2J~

**NOW**  
Thinking about the ham radio led to thinking about Jensen, and that led to a couple of dark, heavy days. Those days passed so much faster than they used to, thank god, much faster than they'd done in the beginning, and it wasn't long before Jared felt like trying out the radio again.

He needed something to distract him anyway—he'd hit a wall with the canvas he'd been working on, or maybe not so much a wall as a loss of control. A figure kept trying to pop up in one corner of it and even though he kept painting it out, it'd just slyly turn up again. From the moment he started messing with it, the damn canvas had had a mind of its own—what had started as swathes of muted colors, had somehow becoming a rain-drenched street scene, and now _people_ wanted to show up on it. Jared shook his head, closed the door on the studio and headed to the kitchen. He grabbed a soda and some chips, and ended up in front of his desk, where Jensen's ham radio still took up the most part of it. He idly turned it on, whirled the dial and suddenly it crackled to life—

"Jared…is this Jared, the Clueless Guy?" The voice sounded entirely too surprised—shocked even. Jared recognized the kid's voice though, and thought for a moment that he was dreaming. For one moment, it was a voice from another time. An impossibility.

"Dude," the voice went on, "Where the hell have you been?" 

"I talked to you yesterday, dude," Jared said, smiling because this kid, this impatient, grumpy guy really did sound just like Jensen. "You act like it's been years. Did I do something wrong again?"

"No, it's been like, well—it's been weeks, more than—" Jared could hear the embarrassment through the airwaves, kid got that tone of voice that Jared associated with Jensen blushing furiously red and frowning, trying to pretend he wasn't massively embarrassed. It made Jared smile, as much as it made him long for those long-ago days.

"Not that I was, like, waiting or anything," the kid went on, "I mean— you're probably in college, right? Like super busy with exams and frat parties and stuff?"

"College? Nope. No exams, no frat parties, no stuff, not me. Never went. I'm a fireman, actually—was anyway."

"Cool! You like it?"

"Well, I'm retired now."

"Oh." 

There weren’t any more questions—Jared had the feeling the kid had picked up on there being something much more behind Jared's simple 'retired now.' "Yeah…so. You like this thing, hunh? We didn't really get to talk about it last time."

Thankfully, the kid let the conversation be steered away from Jared's life. "Sure, it's interesting. Plus, you know, no one else is doing it…they'd laugh their asses off if they knew at school. Like it's such a massively dorky thing to do."

"Yeah? You got a reputation to uphold, some kinda BMOC or something?"

"Don’t be an ass, you don’t know me," the kid said, but his voice was full of laughter and Jared chuckled, too. "I'm a quarterback— _the_ quarterback. I got an image to uphold. Girls to impress. Well, one girl, anyway."

Jared's heart sank a bit. So, not just a difference in the age, they didn’t have much in common after all. Oh well, he thought. It was kind of goofy to hope for that anyway. Or weird. Was it weird? Yeah, it was a little weird.

"How 'bout you," the young voice went on. "You must have some stories to tell…grateful chicks, am I right?"

"Okay, first of all, even if I did have stories, no way in hell would it be appropriate for me to tell you—not to mention it's gross."

"Wow, no stories at all?"

"No chicks—" Jared stopped, breath catching. Well…let the kid think what he wanted.

"What…? What do you mean, no chicks, you a monk? You're like my buddy, Jared. You guys share more than a name; you could share stories about not scoring. By the way, I'm Jensen. I didn't get to tell you the last time we talked—I know, it's a weird name, right? But at least I'm not like you an' Jay—every third guy's named Jared around here. My girlfriend says the people 'round here lack imagination…I think she just doesn’t like the name Jared. Says that's why we fit, me and her, we both have unique names…" 

The kid was still talking, but Jared's brain just…stopped. All thought, all sense, everything but breathing just ground to a halt. No. No fucking way. Too much of a coincidence. "I…I…yeah, I, ah, I guess. Look, I gotta go. Sorry."

Jared shut down the radio, shaking. "It's not Jensen." It wasn't. Because it couldn't be. Jensen wasn't that rare a name. Jensen, whose friend was Jared. Whose favorite activity was a ham radio, who was in high school and whose girlfriend had a unique name and holy fucking shit, how was this possible? What the hell was going on? Jared threw himself back from the desk, his chair toppling—the noise startled him, made him flinch. He was one strung-tight nerve, ready to freak out. "Breathe, breathe," he muttered. "Nuttier than fucking nuts…full on crazy, for fuck's sake…" 

He stared at the radio, watching it like any moment it was going to leap off that desk and savage him. He sidled close, grabbed the cord and jerked it out of the outlet. 

_static_

~J2J~


	3. Chapter 3

3

**THEN**  
The night of Mike's party, Jared told his mom he was staying overnight at Jensen's, and Jensen told his folks he was staying at Jared's. It was a good all-purpose cover story; if they got bored, they could go home to either of their houses, but if the party turned out to be a good one, they were set to stay at Mike's. Jensen claimed where they ended up was Jared's call, but seemed like Jen had plans to get wasted, so…Jared sighed and glanced around the basement room that was Mike's. Maybe he should put a claim on a corner now.

Mike's house was big, one of the bigger ones in a neighborhood designed to flaunt that their owners had serious money; it was nothing like the older neighborhood Jared and Jensen lived in, the kind the news always described as 'neat but of modest means'. 

Jared followed Jensen up the walk, gaping at Mike's house. Up close, it looked even bigger—the outside of was some mixture of aggressively American-themed architecture. He wasn't sure what the architect had been going for—'only somewhat inviting'? Or 'very definitely intimidating'? He was about to elbow Jensen to get his opinion when the huge front door flew open and Mike was grinning at them. "Jensen!" He yelled and then turned to Jared, his arms wide and his grin transformed to a smirk. "Jayman! Jaymeister! Jayrameano! C'mon, dude, give us a deep, sloppy kiss, long time no—"

"Shut _up,_ Mike." Jensen huffed and shoved him kind of hard as he went past. Jared gave Mike a big smile and shrug, then hurried to follow Jensen because that was what he did best, apparently. 

Once past the foyer, Jared couldn't help but rubberneck like a tourist in a foreign land. If the outside had been…special, the inside looked like a hyperactive designer had been given full reign and vague instructions to "make it homey". Yeah, not even close. Jared found it odd that considering the place was parent-free, not a single kid was to be seen. If it wasn't for the floors vibrating from the beat of distant music, Jared would have thought they were there alone. 

Mike waved them on. "Everybody's downstairs in the Lair."

 _"The Lair…?"_ Jared rolled his eyes and Jensen snickered. 

"It's better than it sounds, really," he whispered back.

They went down a wide set of stairs into a basement/family room kind of thing. This part of the house looked like Mike's parents let him do whatever he wanted to. It was a mix of neon beer signs and glossy posters: tits, cars, and action movies. There were a couple of big, fat couches parked near a stupid-huge TV, big as a movie screen.

The music was at full blast. Jared could feel the beat pounding in his chest, something playing that he was only vaguely familiar with—apparently someone was in heaven. He winced. They were definitely gonna be deaf come morning. The air was foggy with smoke, both weed and cigarettes, plus some asshole was smoking a cigar. He trailed Jensen through the gyrating crowd, grabbing handfuls of chips and other hopefully edible snacks, munching and staring…it looked like they'd been transported into a low-budget teen movie. God help him if his momma ever twigged to where he really was. They rounded a pillar and ended up in a kitchenette area. "Pizza's over there," Mike shouted, bouncing up and down to the beat as he faded back into the crowd.

It was pretty neat little setup: a sink, a little fridge and a microwave; Jared felt a sharp, quickly fading stab of envy. Mike had everything a guy needed. Except maybe, family. Mike's parents were gone on vacation as usual. From what Jared knew, they spent more time away than at home. _Rich people,_ Jared thought, shaking his head. If Mike's folks had been poor, they'd probably be in jail for child neglect right now. Instead, they were off skiing or whatnot, somewhere that was not here, and Mike was on his own, trying to fill up the silence with noise and people and…no wonder he was kind of a loudmouth dick. Unfortunately, it was an eye-opening moment for Jared. No part of him wanted to understand or sympathize in the least with Mike, but it had to suck in some way, being abandoned like this. It struck Jared that family was something he'd never really thought about before. They were just— _there._ Momma, Daddy too, in his way. But this thing Mike lived with, having family but not really….

Jared shook his head, like he could toss unsettling thoughts right out of his head. He scraped his bangs out of his eyes and huffed. He hated feeling even a little bit sorry for Mike—the bastard.

*

Jared stepped over a kid sprawled across the really nice carpeting and nudged Jensen. "You sure you want to stay?" he asked and Jensen nodded, although maybe not as enthusiastically as earlier.

"Yeah," he said. "For a little bit, at least. Let's grab some beers, check out what's what, and then, y'know, we can head out."

Jared muttered okay, then flailed wildly forward as a sharp, sudden pain in the middle of his back caught him off guard, took his breath away. "Ow, fucking—"

"Suck it up, Princess P." Mike swung around into their range of sight; two dripping bottles of beer clutched in one hand, grinning at them like punching Jared in the back had been a great joke. "Okay now, assholes, don't embarrass me by leaving sober, hear?"

"Man, fuck off, Rosey. And stop being such a dick to Jared." Jensen looked really pissed. Jared couldn’t hide the smile that Jensen being protective brought, and Mike had the good grace to look remorseful—well, slightly remorseful at least. 

"Yeah…whatever. Leave the precious princess alone, got it…" He flipped Jensen off and bounced away again. 

Looking around, Jared recognized few cheerleaders huddled in one corner. They perched all over a small couch, fluttering and preening like shrill, colorful birds when Jensen looked their way. He spotted few guys he knew from Jensen's crew and some guys Jared had played basketball with, before he quit so he could concentrate on what he was good at. The guys gravitated towards each other and talked shop around the few couples who were using the excuse of music to dance…more or less. 

Mike's parties were famous for having unlimited amounts of alcohol of every stripe, so they drank like they were getting paid for it, and everything got funnier as the night progressed. They made their way around the basement, Jensen following a couple of girls he knew, Jared trailing after Jensen. He watched Jen laughing and flirting with them, put up with the winks and smirks Jen kept tossing his way like he was part of it all. _Fucking clueless sonofabitch,_ Jared thought. _What an asshole. Love of my life,_ he laughed to himself, and caught Jensen's slightly befuddled look when he glanced his way.

After a while, for his sanity's sake, Jared floated off in a direction not _Jensen,_ and found himself being herded into the kitchenette by Mike's friend, Tom. Tom shoved a slice of pizza and a beer into his hands. "Rosey paid a shitload for this stuff, we might as well be good guests and help him out."

Jared actually started having a good time for once. Tom and his friend Sam were funny as hell. They spun one ridiculous story after the other—at the moment, Tom and Sam were going on about the one summer they'd spent working on a lawn service crew, along with a few other friends. Sam just kept grinning and nodding at every ridiculous incident. Jared laughed until his knees went weak as Tom described being scared shitless by a pair of screaming peacocks one customer kept as some kind of ambulatory lawn ornaments. "Not funny, dude—they sound like people, Jay! I swear tagod I thought someone was getting murdered behind me."

Sam nodded, laughing. "He screamed too, right in front our bosses—right in front of the one he had a massive crush on. It was funny as hell—" 

Sam suddenly stopped laughing, and focused on the beer in his hand. For some reason, Tom's cheeks went bright red, but he kept smiling at Jared. Jared smiled back, couldn't help but notice that Tom was really kind of hot—like Jensen-levels of hot, in fact. Jared could almost swear there was some…interest in the way Tom looked at him. But Tom was dating that tiny little Kristen girl, wasn't he? 

Tom killed his beer and slammed the bottle on the counter. "Whew—s'hot in here—gonna go out on the patio. You comin' Jay?" Tom swayed slightly, giving him a grin that bordered on goofy. Jared liked it—and noted that twice now, he'd called him Jay…he kind of liked that, too. 

"Yeah, let me find Jen first, though? Let him know I didn't take off."

Tom's goofy grin seemed to fade some before going wide and bright again. "Okay! Just…don’t…forget me." He gave Jared a wobbly wave, and Jared headed for where he thought he'd last seen Jensen. Walking away, he heard Sam sigh. _"Tom…"_

Something in the way Sam said Tom's name made Jared look back. He caught Sam shaking his head. 

"Take it easy, Tommy," he was saying. His tone was light, but Tom reacted as if he'd yelled. "You don't want any trouble with Kristen, man," Sam said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know…I'm just." He stopped. "I'm just tired, Sam. And for once I'd like to be—"

Jared hurried off to find Jensen. Truthfully, he didn’t want to hear what Tom would like to be. He had a feeling it might be too close to home.

He wandered through the place, weaving in and out between people. Seemed as though the crowd had doubled, tripled since he'd been in the kitchen. He headed off to the small, clear space in front of the staircase. Every step leading to the upstairs had a couple on it, and Jared could feel the heat in the air. There was purpose here that even he could pick up. He eased his way up as unobtrusively as he could, not so much for the couples' sake as to not draw attention to himself….

He found Jensen. 

And it wasn't unexpected, not at all, but he was still helpless against the vicious kick to the heart he felt when he finally found him in one of the dark corners upstairs. He looked rumpled and undone, exactly like Jared's fantasies…how fucking sad was it that he knew exactly what Jensen looked like when he was fucked up and horny? It made him feel like some fucked-up stalker.

Jensen turned jerkily towards him, red-faced, sweat plastering strands of his bangs across his forehead, curling the ends around his neck. He had his hand down some girl's pants, her leg curled around his hip. "Jared…" His mouth went slack, his hips rolled against whoever it was in his grip. 

Jared jerked to a stop and backpedaled, trying to keep his distance. He hated feeling the utter futility of his damn stupid feelings being shoved in his face like this. Jensen blinked at him, slow and bleary, and then smiled, reaching out to him. 

"Jared, hey, Jay, babe…hey, you see anything around you like? Huhn?" 

Jared almost shoved Jensen down the stairs before he realized what he'd actually meant…"No, no one here," he muttered, masochistically watching Jensen pull his other hand loose of the girl's pants and froze as, horribly, Jen looped his arms around Jared's neck, too fast for Jared to dodge him. 

"So picky," Jensen muttered, and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on Jared's cheek. He smelled like pussy, and Jared couldn't pull back fast enough.

"Stop it, Jen, c'mon—" Somehow the guy had managed to get totally shit-faced, just in the brief time Jared had left him on his own, and he wasn't up for dealing with Jensen this way, not tonight. He took off down the stairs, considerably less courteous of the couples on them now, his only thought to escape Jensen and his clueless, innocently cruel concern. Jensen refused to let go, and the two of them stumbled their way together down the stairs.

At the bottom stair, Jared finally managed to yank his arm out of Jensen's grasp, so hard it sent a shock of pain up to his shoulder. "Get off, damn it."

Showing stellar timing, Mike staggered up, colliding with them, managing to knock them back together. "You guys," Mike snorted, and smacked Jensen on the back. "You're like fuckin' Siamese cats…is that it? That's not right…" Mike lost himself in a moment of confusion but before Jared could break free of Jensen, Mike grabbed him by the collar. "Jen, you suck—whyrn't you getting Gigantor here laid? Heeeey Gigan', are you a virgin, hunh? S'at what's makin' you so shy?"

Jared flushed a furious red and pushed Mike away. "Leave me alone, Mike."

"Aw, you too shy, little virgin one? Plentya empty rooms, we'll find one and I'll teach you all 'bout it."

"Fuck, c'mon, Mike. Let go—"

"Mike, leave him alone," Jensen frowned. "And stop with the gay jokes, JT don't like it, me either. Not fuckin' gay…"

"Yes, I am," Jared muttered.

"Hey—me either, I was just kidding," Mike yelled, and then stumbled, peering suspiciously into Jared eyes. "Wait—you what—did you just say you _are_ gay?" He drew his eyes over the way Jensen had his arms still looped around Jared's waist. "Are you guys 'mos, because—"

Jensen pushed away from Jared. "Hell no, don’t be stupid. JT's just fuckin' around—"

Jared looked Mike right in the eyes and said, "Yeah, I'm gay. Jen's not—he's just my oblivious best friend. That's _all_ we are." 

"Oh my god…" Jensen whirled away, "I can't deal with this." He grabbed the girl he'd been pawing at and yanked her up the stairs. "Come on."

There was a rush of excited babble; curious looks cast Jared's way. This was it, all the years he'd managed to escape being a punching bag were about to come crashing down on him, and of course, he was alone. He fully expected to be dragged out of the house, maybe set on fire in the back yard. But Mike just snorted and threw an arm around his neck, yanking him down. He rubbed noogies into Jared's scalp before letting him go with a laugh. " _Knew_ you were a pretty princess, Gigan—" and laughed again before staggering off. 

The few people that caught the drama over the noise gawped, a few muttered _told you so,_ but most of them lost interest pretty quickly. As an involuntary outing went, it was a little anti-climatic. The few former teammates that were there told him they didn’t care, generously so, Jared figured. Of course it wasn't like he had to shower with those guys anymore. That would have been the test, right? But what the hell, he wasn't going to think on that. Let whatever was going to happen, happen. The only person who mattered wasn't around to say something and that felt like getting stabbed. Just…more proof that Jensen could be kinda stupid. And a slut. 

Suddenly, green eyes were locked on his, dark with worry. Jared's heart skipped a beat—he leaned into the arm curled around his shoulder.

"Hey, there you are. I heard. C'mon, Jared, let's get out of here, just for a few minutes." 

Tom dragged him out to the patio and sat him down on one of the couches scattered around. "So…if I heard right, you're gay."

"Yeah. Can't believe you're even out here with me." 

"I don’t think as many people care as you think. Besides, you're kind of a big deal around the school," Tom smiled.

"What? No, I'm not. I'm just—"

"Hot? Popular? Mysterious and cool, with your aloof self? Unless you're sitting with Jensen, then you're all smiles and laughs and all the girls want to be that one to make you laugh like that…and stuff." Tom kind of smirked when he said that. The way he looked at Jared, Jared felt…a faint shiver of hope.

Tom got up off the chair he'd sat in and plopped down next to Jared. His smile went a little wider, all straight white teeth and full, pink lips. He leaned close, so close warm breath danced on Jared's cheek, making him shiver. "Hey. I'm drunk enough to ask…there's a gazebo or something over there somewhere…or maybe it's an arbor. Whatever, it's dark and private and we can, y'know, talk better there…if you _feel_ like talking, I mean. Talking."

Words dried up and died, what with his mouth having gone desert dry, so he nodded. Emphatically. Jensen was probably fucking that little piece of…of girl right now. Why shouldn't he get—whatever he could? Tom was nice, he was trustworthy, and even if he wasn't, he was built like holy shit. He nodded again, just in case Tom hadn't got it the first time—he was more than ready to "talk."

They strolled down to the arbor which was almost invisible in the dark. Tom led him inside, leaned against one side of it. He was smiling as Jared inched his way slowly closer, patiently waiting for Jared to make it plain just what he wanted. When Jared was close enough to touch, Tom eased him forward with the loosest, gentlest grip, until Jared was standing between Tom's spread legs. 

It felt…nice. He'd never been this close to a boy before, at least not without getting punched at the same time. Or not without having Jensen snoring drunkenly in his ear.

"Hey. You okay?"

Jared nodded, and Tom drew him even closer, until their noses were touching. Tom giggled a bit. "This okay?" and was so close, each word brushed against Jared's lips…made him shiver.

"Yeah," Jared breathed. 

Tom nodded. "How 'bout this?" he asked and kissed Jared—tentative, careful. He drew back. In the dim light, Jared couldn't really see what expression he wore, but his eyes looked…kind. Concerned. 

"I think…more is good."

Suddenly Tom's eyes lit with a wicked light that Jared couldn’t have imagined on him before, his whole face alight with an impish smile. He licked his lips; Jared's eyes widened at the flash of pink tongue, then he leaned in. Kissed Jared again. This time, it felt like a slow tongue of flame crawling down Jared's spine and settling in his belly, coiled up and glowing there. 

Tom stroked Jared's arms, slow, dreamy movements…he cupped his head and Jared sighed at the feel. Tom's hands were so big, covering all of him…he couldn't remember feeling something like that before, but it felt…safe. Warm…

He opened to Tom, licked into his mouth and all over the inside, breathing little sips of air in and then going right back with those soft, pulling kisses until Jared whimpered. Tom sucked on his tongue, firm, serious pulls that set him on fire, thickened his dick in his pants. It was good, fuck, it was spectacular. Until out of the blue, his eyes burned with tears and his heart felt like it was shattering. The kiss was good; Tom was pretty great…so why was he suddenly feeling like this?

"You still doin' okay?" Tom asked. 

"Not sure…"Jared shuddered out a sigh and Tom's arms came around him. It took a second, but he let go—folded up against Tom, letting him take all his weight. "I thought you had a girlfriend."

"I did. Don't now. You're the only one who knows though," Tom said. "I wouldn't…I wouldn't be here it I did, Jay." 

"Yeah, I know." And he did, Tom really was a decent guy. A great guy, a _gay_ guy, bi, close enough. "I thought…I thought I was alone," Jared whispered. He didn't want to move, if felt too fucking good, pressed against that warm, firm chest. 

"Yeah," Tom sighed. "I think everyone feels that way, once they figure things out. You're not. I watched you with Jensen, and I wondered. I mean, he's kind of a slut, but you’ve never…I wasn't sure if you were just that shy around girls or…."

"Gay, definitely gay." 

"And so fucked up over Jensen," Tom said, he was smiling but there was more than an edge of sadness to it. Jared didn’t even try to hide it or explain it away, he just shrugged. It was the truth, and he didn't think Tom would respect anything else.

'Well…you wanna head back in?"

"Nah, I'm gonna head on home. Walk will do me good." He looked at Tom, really looked at him…"Hey, thanks. For…everything."

Tom shook his head, "No, thank you…" he stared back at Jared, bit his lip. "Do you mind…can I call you sometime?" he asked uncertainly.

"I—Tom. I know that I've got no chance with him, but I am like you said, fucked up over him. I don’t want to drag you into that shit, you don’t deserve it."

"I know what the story is, Jay. I'm a big boy. I can be a friend to you, really. I can help. I like you—a lot. But I know the score, so…and we need each other, I think."

Jared nodded, made sense. More or less. He gave Tom his number and Tom gave him his. "Make sure you call," he said. And Jared got bold—leaned forward and gave Tom a kiss. Tom startled, and a slow grin made him look about twelve. 

"I promise," Jared said. 

Jared didn't head back to the house; Jensen was busy and really, Jared had no confidence that meeting up with him was going to go well. He'd rather be home—at least his momma understood. And there was the kiss…Jared blew out a sharp breath. Yeah, the kiss. As first kisses go…it was kind of incredibly good. Like, spectacularly good. 

He didn’t waste time wishing it was Jensen—he might as well fucking wish for wings. 

Jared cut across the lawn, and out to the street. The walk wouldn't be long, maybe half hour at most, so he started off, loping down the sidewalk. He'd jogged down a couple of blocks before he heard rapid footsteps behind him, and tensed. Had someone from the party followed him? Maybe not all of them had been as blasé as they'd seemed…he started to turn, fists tightening, because he wasn't little Punchbag Padalecki anymore—he wasn't going down without giving as good as he got. Rage swept over him, but he settled right away when he heard, "Fucking slow down, Jesus."

 

He shook his head at the guy staggering to a stop on the sidewalk, not sure if he was annoyed or kind of pleased to see him. 

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" Jensen's brother was bent at the knees, making a big production of wheezing. 

"I'm a big boy, Josh, don’t need protection," Jared snapped. 

"Yeah well, where's that brother of mine? Didn't you guys go to Mike's together?"

"Guess," Jared huffed. 

"Shit. Damn it, Jensen…" Josh looked sad, and troubled. "I'm sorry, man. He just…" Josh shook his head. He caught up to Jared, quickening his stride so they walked side by side. He still looked annoyed and…worried, and _that_ worried Jared.

"What? Is something wrong with him?"

"Well, yeah, JT. Kinda don’t like the way he's treating you." 

Jared stumbled; Josh caught him by the arm, keeping him from falling over the curb. "Well—he's, he's treating me fine. Why would you—"

"Dude, you get that I'm not just fucking around when I say you're his BF, right? Jesus, I mean, how the fuck is it that you're both so clueless? Hey, I got a fucking river in Egypt you might wanna learn about." 

"Fuck you, Josh—just— _fuck you!"_ Jared whirled around and started walking away as fast as he could. Fuck Josh and his fucking jokes. As far as he was concerned, all the Ackles could go to hell. He reared back to throw a punch when Josh grabbed his arm. 

"Knock it off, Padalecki, and _listen_ to me. Look, our parents are…they're basically good people but…you know, the kind who don't know they're bigots, or don't think they are. And JR, he wants peace. Wants not to lose what he thinks is their respect. If he wasn't so afraid…"

Jared didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hold out for false hope, didn’t even want to open his mind to the possibility that Jensen…and fuck Josh for even making it possible to think maybe he had a chance with Jensen, that maybe Jen might possibly feel something the same…"Aw fuck Josh, please leave me alone, _please?"_

"Nope—ice cream?"

"What?" Jared stared at him, puzzled by the non sequitur. "Ice cream?"

"Yeah, I'm hungry. And a little buzzed, you weren't the only one celebrating the beginning of summer and the flower of our youth with PBR and cannabis.'

"Jesus. Shut up, I don't smoke…" Jared growled. "Wait, your treat?"

"I guess, yeah."

"In that case, I wanna chocolate shake and fries and a chili dog with onions." 

"Fuck, you're an expensive date," Josh whined and pushed him up the walk. 

"Yeah. But you love me," Jared said.

Josh shoved him again. "Maybe. I'd probably love you more if we did a little less talking and a lot more walking, ya moose."

~J2J~

**NOW**  
Josh put his feet up on the dumpy little hassock plopped in front of the armchair, popped the lid on his beer with his ring, and drank long. Slammed the mostly empty bottle on the side table and belched thunderously.

"Disgusting," Jared said, shaking his head.

"You gay guys, you're so picky."

"If I wasn't so tired, I'd get off this couch and kick your fat ass."

Josh laughed; his eyes crinkled at the corners so like, but not like, Jensen's. "Yeah, yeah. How's the painting going?"

Jared flinched, nearly dropping his bottle. "How the hell did you know?" He looked over his shoulder but the studio door was closed. 

"'Cause I'm Sherlock Holmes, dude. That and you're covered with paint; you've even got it in your hair. I'm glad to see you painting again. You're good, JT. You always were." 

Jared thought about the canvas, which now definitely featured a rainy city block, a figure holding a large umbrella…and another one trying to sneak its way in…he dragged himself off the couch and collected the empty bottles, headed towards the kitchen and away from Josh's fond regard. 

"Hey, you know that ham radio your kid pulled out of the trunk?" Jared asked, angling the subject away from painting in what he thought was a pretty smooth way, "I tried it out last night, talked to some kid for a while—" he was about to say _'weird as hell, his name's Jensen, too',_ but stopped himself. Better not to mention it. Not with what he was thinking....

Josh followed him into the kitchen, getting himself another beer from Jared's fridge. "Yeah?" Josh stared at him, drinking slowly, not taking his eyes away. "Hunh. I remember JR being on that thing for hours. I remember how frustrated you used to get."

Jared laughed. "Well, I kind of get it, now. He, unh, was really nice, helpful—"

"Watch, bro, you'll get hooked just like JR." Josh dropped his bottle into the recycling bin under the sink. "Well, gotta get back home before Allie sets the dogs on me."

As he passed Jared, he yanked his head down and ruffled his hair until he looked like he'd slept in a bush. "I am really glad you're painting again, Jay. I'm glad you're—" He shrugged. "Looking a little happy. Er. You know what I mean."

Jared smiled up at Josh. "Big fucking girl."

"The biggest, baby. You betcha."

He walked out and Jared listened to the front door shut, the sound of Josh's car heading out. He leaned back against the counter. Thinking about the kid. _Jensen…_ the sound of his voice was the most soothing thing he'd heard since Jensen had died…since way before, if he was being honest with himself. He sounded like him, young him. So much so….

Could he have lost his mind without noticing it…? 

So. Basically he was talking himself out of believing that this kid was Jensen. Because that would be the sane thing to do. 

He crept back into the studio like monsters were lurking somewhere in it. The radio crackled, the dials lit and flashing…he knew that he'd unplugged it, but there it was. Alive—cord back in the outlet.

There was a long, drawn out hiss of static and then a pop, and, "Jared…? Jared?" 

"Jensen—yeah, yeah I'm here." 

"Oh god. There you are. I've been trying to find you _forever!"_

~J2J~

**THEN**

_"I'd really like to hang out, Jay, but Danni's got this thing, and I promised I'd drive her…you know how girls can be, man. I had to beg like a bitch to get Josh to even lend me the car, so…but maybe next weekend? We can head up to the Quarry or something…anyway, talk to ya."_

Jared stared at his phone before tossing it on the bed—he'd much rather throw it through a window, but that'd just get him in trouble and leave him cut off from the world. "Damn it…"

If things could get worse, Jared didn’t know how. Somehow Jensen ended up dating Pants Girl. They'd gone from hooking up at Mike's party to being the golden couple, king and queen of everything. Well, maybe not, but too many people thought they were disgustingly cute together. Jared just hated her. He tried to like her, but there was nothing about her that appealed to him…well, except for her stunning rack. And her hair, he wished he could ask her for her hair care regimen, that stuff freaking flowed like silk. And her skin—it was flawless, smooth, naturally tan…gorgeous. 

Thinking about her made him examine his own self with a cold, objective eye. And okay, he got why Jensen fell for Danielle—no, fuckin'—what the hell was her name— _Danneel, right…_ Danni. Jared rolled his eyes, and felt just a little guilty. Being such a bitch didn't come naturally to him. Not like some he could na— "Oh my god," he muttered to mirror-Jared. "You sound like a bitter, old queen."

He jumped off his bed and wandered around his room until he ended up in front of his mirror. Still there from where he'd put it up in fourth grade…it wasn't quite long enough to be full-length anymore, and was maybe a little neon-green sparkly, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it down. Besides, Buttercup was still cool.

He stared at himself and frowned. He was no prize, he got that. The only thing he had going for him was his height. He had pretty good hair, too, but no way as nice as what's-her-name's. His eyes weren't as pretty as Jensen's, his mouth was weird and his nose was…the less said the better. Plus the moles…if you stared at them long enough, they started to get creepy looking….

Fuck. When he's been younger, much younger, he'd been pretty at least. He remembered himself as kind of cute in those baby doll tees…those little gold sandals his mom would buy him…he'd been slim, but his legs and arms hadn't been all gangly and overly long and knobby back then. He'd been small and cute, and once upon a time, Jensen had named himself Jared's protector and had loved him. 

Fuck, he _knew_ Jensen loved him now just as much as he had then, 'course he did—Jensen just wouldn't ever love him the way Jared wanted, he wasn't made to love Jared like that. Couldn't be bitter about that, how could he be? It wasn't Jensen's fault.

~J2J~

He held his bedroom door open so Mike could come in—his hands were full of junk food, and he had a few DVDs tucked under his chin. "Jaymon, before you even start, I promise they're not porn, cross my heart."

"They better not be—that last thing you tried to get me to watch almost made me vomit, man."

Mike laughed, dumping everything on the bed and sweeping his hair out of his eyes. Jared was glad Mike had stopped shaving his head—the bald had made him look kind of evil. Now he was sporting a shock of thick brown hair that stood on end no matter what he did…made him look like a perpetually surprised anime character. 

"I have something else for us," Mike grinned and with a wink, he pulled a couple of cans of beer out of his jacket and set them down. "Ta-da!" he crowed, then went on to rip open one of the bags of chips he'd brought. "Dinner of champions—purloined beer and barbeque chips."

"Yah, you're amazing." Jared held his hands out and let Mike fill them. If someone had told him that a day would come in which hanging out with Mike would be the high point of his week, he'd have laughed his ass off. Strangely, ever since The Great Outing, Mike had somehow become a really good friend, a non-judgmental, oddly supportive friend. He was still a loud-mouth and still embarrassing, but Jared figured the trade-off of having someone he could call at all hours of the night and moan and whine to with little repercussion was worth it. 

"So, is His Jenseness coming tonight or is it just you and me 'gain, Princess?"

"Eh. He's busy tonight. It's cool, though. You gonna help me go through my portfolio later? Jensen said he'd look as soon as he got a chance, but I want to get other eyes on it before then…" Not saying that the chances of Jensen actually doing that were slim, not with the way Danni led him around by his nose. Besides, his art teacher was supportive, so was his momma. 

"Sure," Mike said, hesitated a bit before going on. "Um…Tom's applying to UMetro, and they have a pretty good art program. Why don’t you—"

"Stop matchmaking. It's never worked out for me. Besides, Tom and me, we're good as is. Don’t poke around in stuff you don't know about, okay?"

Mike held his hands up. "Fine, fine…here." He tossed a DVD at Jared. "Put that in."

Jared looked suspiciously at the hand-written label taped to the case. "You said you weren't going to make me puke. Wait, is this really _Napoleon Dynamite_?" He was suspicious; the darn thing was still in first run at the Metro…great. Another evening spent watching a crappy bootleg…no, actually, it seemed like a great way to spend a Saturday night, considering the alternative. Which was sitting alone in the dark, jerking off and pining like a…

Mike interrupted Jared's self-pitying stream of thought with a high-pitched laugh. "Dude. You doubt? You know me—" He made a slight-of-hand movement, whirling around until he plopped down onto Jared's bed. "I'm _magic._ Plus, I know people who know people," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

"You mean you know sad little geeks who are wanna-be criminals," Jared snorted. "All right. Break out the rest of the chips, pass the beer. No talking, watching bootlegs now."

A few hours after Mike left, Tom called, and they made plans for Jared to meet up with him and Sam at the Quarry the next day. He was looking forward to it; it'd been too long since he'd made a trip out there and the last time, he'd been alone. Boring. This was what he needed—a day horsing around in the water, maybe stop at one of the restaurants in the area instead of packing in food, like they usually did. That'd be cool. 

Thinking about swimming led to thinking about Tom cutting through the water, muscles all wet and gleaming, maybe wearing those cheap, tissue-thin shorts of his that clung to his dick like they loved it…what the fuck, as long as he was fantasizing, Tom's buddy Sam was pretty fucking hot too, dark-chocolate skin, ripped as hell—he looked good enough to lick all over, not that Sammy McStraight would ever hear that from Jared—

Jared slid his hand into his flannels, petted himself and moaned, quietly. Yes, it was past time he had himself a little me-session.

He was just about to fish the lube and tissues out of his nightstand drawer when he heard a _click-click_ at his bedroom window. He sighed and reluctantly slid his hand out of his pants. There went his plans to jerk off followed by a night of peaceful rest. He adjusted his pants and willed his dick down. 

The clicking gained speed; he knew it could only be Jensen flinging gravel at his window. Idiot. Only Jensen had the nerve to show up after midnight and expect to be let in—how he wasn't waking up Momma, Jared had no idea. A thump-thump-thumping started up now, which meant the fool was drunk and had just crawled up on his porch roof. 

"Damn it, Jensen…" Jared jumped out of bed and went to the window. What the fuck. Jensen and his queen were probably fighting again, and as always, it fell to him to patch Jensen's fragile psyche up and send him back to the Ice Queen's realm. Even through the closed window he heard him moaning. "God, I'm so fuckin' drunk, JT. Open up--pleeeeease."

Against his better judgment, he did, then crawled across the porch roof, wondering how in the hell Jensen's drunk ass always made it without falling to the ground. Fuck, a broken bone might be just what the man needed to wake up and smell the goddamn coffee…the minute he thought that, he was filled with superstitious fear and guilt. "Oh gawd, I don't mean that, sorry, sorry…"

"Hunh… Man, I'm so drunk, Jay. Help me in, dude. This fuckin' window won't let me in."

"Jensen," Jared sighed. "You're nowhere near the window." Jensen straightened up enough to grab onto Jared's open hands, slide along the roof awkwardly, finally crawling in over the sill and tumbling to the floor of Jared's room. 

After a long moment, Jensen dragged himself to his feet. "I woke your momma up. She's kind of mad, I think. She said she wasn't gonna call my mom, but that I had to call them and let them know where I was."

"…if Momma was up, why'd you crawl up the—you know what? Never mind. Go call Josh—he'll tell them. They won't get mad if you're right next door. You are gonna stay, right?"

"A- _course_ I am. Where else would I go?" Jensen said, goofy grin pasted across his face as he weaved towards Jared's general direction.

"Jensen." Lately Jared had been hearing from Mrs. Ackles about how sweet it was that Jensen was spending time with Jared again, just like they were little kids all over again. Truth was he barely saw Jensen at all anymore, but Danni sure did. He sighed, shook his head, and pushed Jensen to the bed. "You need to shower?"

Jensen pushed off his boots, and wiggled out of his pants like a three year old. Jared had to fight down a grin. It really sucked that Drunk Jensen was so darn cute…Jensen lifted his head, peering at Jared in confusion until his question registered. He brightened, and then shook his head, "Nope; I know you don't like me coming over here smelling like her—I'm super clean." He waved at himself, at this point dressed his t-shirt and Batman boxers, and one sock.

Jared laughed awkwardly. "You act like I'm some kind of jealous lover or something, dude."

Jensen stared at him, an odd expression on his face. "Someone once told me that if I wanted somethin', I should go after it. That if l loved a person, tell 'em, and that the answer I got would be the one I wanted. But I don' know what I want, Jared. I just, I jus' don’ know. 'm scared. Jared, I'm so scared." 

"Jensen…what's the matter? Tell me what's wrong." 

"I—I can't. I just can’t." He flopped to his back. "Come t'bed already." 

Jared shuddered. The choice of words…

He lay down next to Jensen, and after a few moments, pretty much like he expected, Jensen wrapped an arm around him. That in itself didn’t startle him, a drunk Jensen was a handsy, cuddly Jensen. Even the press of Jensen's dick against his back wasn't especially alarming—sometimes in his sleep, Jensen humped him, especially drunk, sleeping, Jensen. But he was sure Jen was wide awake right now, and it sounded…was he crying? Before he could turn to check, Jensen ground his dick against Jared, pushing and grinding until the thin material that separated them was pressed between his cheeks by Jen's dick—he was dragging the crown right against Jared's hole—even through both layers of fabric, it caught and rubbed against him and felt so fucking good—he hissed, struggling to keep from pushing back into it, damn Jensen. He was talking, something low and jumbled together that Jared couldn’t make out. 

He rocked into Jared—his breath exploding hot and humid against his bare back, his hand tightening on Jared's hip, and Jared felt a blush explode over his skin. He was instantly burning, instantly sweating and trembling. Jen's hand slipped lower, under his flannels, where only Tom's and his own hand had ever been. Jared barely contained a shout when Jensen's hand closed over him, immediately started stroking, firm and tight, like he knew just how Jared liked it.

"Please, please, please," Jensen muttered and Jared let him. What else could he do? From where was he supposed to get the strength to refuse his drunken, stupid friend that he was madly in love with? Jensen kept grinding against him until he froze, moaned in Jared's ear just as he bucked hard, once, twice against Jared. The wet heat pasting Jared's sleep pants to his ass shocked him—he almost lost it himself when he got that Jen had come, just from grinding against him. It got even better when Jensen suddenly remembered that he had Jared's dick in his hand, went back to giving Jared what was a pretty incredible handjob. Jared almost bit a hole through the balled-up bit of sheet he'd shoved into his mouth when he came himself. He stuttered out Jensen's name, wanting to ask, _are you okay, did you want to do that, will you remember that…why? Why, why did you do that when you know, you have to know what it means to me, you fucker…._

 

In the morning, Jared got out of an empty bed, showered and dressed with his brain aggressively on autopilot. 

He was shocked to find Jensen still in his house, big as day, making breakfast for Momma to apologize for waking her up. He had a cup of tea brewing away, blueberry, something his momma bought and got Jensen hooked on. Jared thought it was gross, coffee was so much better—

"I'm making waffles for Miss Sherri. You want some?" Jensen asked, looking at him, with huge, fucking, goddamn anime princess eyes, and they were full of _'please, don't, please forget'._

So Jared did. 

"I want bacon and a sunny-side-up with my waffles," he snapped, and Momma looked at him, slightly shocked at the edge in his voice. Jensen just dropped his eyes and nodded. 

They cleaned up after breakfast, and his momma gave Jared a list and the car keys and sent him off to do errands for her. Jensen was hunched over his phone when Jared came out to the driveway. His whole posture radiated stress. He whirled around when Jared coughed. "Gotta go. I'll talk to you later," he snapped and shoved his phone in his pocket. 

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah…just told Dee that I was gonna be hanging out with you a bit today."

"Oh?"

"Why? Do you not want me going along—" Jensen stiffened up, looking even more stressed than he had when Jared first came out, if possible.

"No, hell no, 'course I want you to come. I'd be bored on my own." He grinned and jumped into his momma's car.

"Hello, Ugly Little Toaster—I missed you," Jensen called out, patting the car's roof before sliding in. 

"Oh, for fuck's sake, get in and shut up," Jared snapped, not fooling Jensen in the least, judging by the way he was grinning at him.

They drove around town, hitting the dry cleaner and the bakery, stopping by the butcher's to leave an order…typical Saturday kind of things. 

They ended up in a Dairy Queen close on the outskirts of town. They sat out on a bench, eating soft serve and talking about nothing…until Jen looked up at him through lowered lashes. 

"What?"

Jensen sighed. "Look…I know you don’t like De—Danneel. But…I think she's good for me. She's. She loves me, loves my family. I think…I think this might be it for me, Jared."

Jared felt like he was listening to Jensen talking to him through a mile-long tube. "But…you guys haven't even been dating that long. And what about school—college? You might meet someone else, some one you love more, I mean, not more but—how could you?" _What about me—_

"I'm not gonna—look, I'm thinking about being a fireman, it’s a good job, an important job. I can make a difference. _We_ can. It's something solid, JT. Something we can build on, y'know? Not some wispy dream you can barely hold on to. Benefits…a future. It's…it's a good way to support a family."

"Family? Family…what the hell…who's thinking about family yet?"

"Danni's pregnant, JT. And I gotta step up. More than that, I love her, of course."

Up until that point, Jared had been feeling some small bit of guilt about the night before. Like, maybe he'd taken advantage of his friend in his drunken state. But now, he felt filthy. He felt used and dirty, like he'd just been the human equivalent of a tissue, or…maybe it'd been a kiss off, a goodbye…whatever it was, it hadn't really involved him. Not the way he'd wanted it to.

Jensen grabbed his hand when he tried to walk away, put some space between himself and the ass he called his friend. "I need you, JT. I need to know you're in my corner, that you're still my best friend—I can't do this without you, _please—"_

The weirdest, worst thing in the world, Jared thought, was to be torn between hating someone so much, and loving them more than anything in the world—more than yourself. _"Fuck,_ JR. Goddamnit. You…" He risked a look at Jensen, who was staring at him like Jared had the ability to gut him with a single word. "Shit. I guess we've got some research to do, hunh?"

~J2J~


	4. Chapter 4

4

Momma was at his door, knocking softly as she called for him. "Honey, your daddy sent a card with the money for your cap and gown. Oh, and some brochures from different schools came in the mail today, too. You know, your daddy and I both think that you should at least look at them, Jelly-Bean."

"Momma!" Using that ancient nickname startled him into laughing, which was what she was obviously aiming for. Laughing made him feel like he could breathe a little bit again. "…thanks, Momma." 

She stepped into his room, laid his mail on his bed. Kissed his forehead lightly and patted his shoulder before walking out again. 

He read the card his dad had sent, smiling at his usual attempt to be funny. He missed his dad, and was looking forward to spending some time with him after graduation. Dad didn't get his _'sudden desire to be a fireman'_ but he was okay with it, supported it like he'd supported Jared's sudden interest in sports. 

Jared fanned out the brochures across the bed covers, then leaned over the side of his bed and tossed them all into the garbage.

Yes, he was going to follow his idiot heart instead of his brain. Jared entertained some vague ideas of maybe taking a couple of art courses at the community college—he and Jensen would be taking a few classes there anyway—and one of the galleries downtown gave art classes as well—

Senior year, Jared thought, and it had taken this long for his life to come crashing to a halt. Okay, so, not really to an end, just…stalled. 

That's exactly what he'd been feeling lately, he felt stalled. He just couldn't figure out what to do, except to follow Jensen, which was really a crappy kind of decision. Crappy or not, it was the only decision that let him breathe. Tom had called him the night before and they'd talked for a while, about this turn his life was taking and other things. Maybe the thing between them had never developed into anything more than a friends-with-benefits deal, but it suited them both and Tom.

Tom had been his lifeline more times than he could count. Tom was a good, good friend, willing to listen to Jared being an asshole. He was going to miss Tom when he moved on, probably more than Tom realized.

Jared admitted to himself he was never leaving here; he'd have to make the best of it, watching Jen and Danni build a life together. He was going to have to content himself with circling on the outside of it forever. Live off the memory of a hand job and a dry fuck for the rest of his life…he hadn't even gotten a fucking kiss out of it. Jared raised his hand, and smacked his forehead as hard as he could. He drew in a great, shaky breath, and blinked through painfully flashing stars—probably gave himself a damn concussion. He exhaled through the feeling of having fallen off the edge of a cliff and landed upright on his feet—it hurt like holy hell, but he was still alive. 

He threw the covers back, swung his feet over the edge of the bed and got up. He threw the window open and gasped in fresh air, the tears on his face going cold, but drying quickly in the morning breeze. Fuck, he was a damn maudlin sonofabitch this morning. 

He turned back into the room and sniffed, wiped away left-over tears and a little snot. Enough. Graduation was right around the corner, start of a whole new world, right? 

His nose cleared and he smelled breakfast muffins. The warm, homey scent wrung a little smile out of him—he needed about a dozen of those things right now. Nothing like them fresh out of the oven to make it worthwhile getting out of bed. Solid proof his momma had ESP, thank you, Jesus.

*

Saturday had been kind of crappy so far. He'd weaseled the Ugly Little Toaster from his mom, and he was supposed to meet Mike at the mall and from that point, they'd play it by ear. Typical of the careless mook, he was running late—a half hour so far, and still no damn Mike. Jared cooled his heels in the food court, trying to make a single small iced coffee and a tiny bag of gummy bears last.

Putting the icing on his special-day-cake, Danni suddenly appeared out of nowhere, although sadly without Jen, and plopped her uninvited butt down at Jared's table. 

"Hey, how's tricks," he muttered, and grimaced. Could have used a better choice of words. And Danni being Danni, smart as a whip and mean as a snake, stared him down—an icy, speculating look in her eyes. Her lips twisted into a wry smile, and she nodded, a short, curt nod. She had a look on her face like Bruce Lee sizing up Chuck Norris, and Jared knew he was well and truly fucked.

 _"Things_ are going really well. So, Jensen…and you. Firemen. I told him it’d be a great career choice, excellent benefits, good pay. My parents are floating us the money to get a house, did you know?"

No, he didn't. 

"Because with the baby and all, we'll need a decent place, and I don't want some crappy apartment, not for us. I want our lives to be better than our parents, not taking a step backwards just because we're young—and the pregnancy, of course—"

Her lips were moving, but Jared was having a strange out-of-body experience; it was ice-cold inside of himself and nothing seemed to connect to anything. He blinked, and her voice continued to rip strips out of his heart. It was somehow more real, more concrete and final, coming out of her mouth than it would have been coming out of Jensen's.

"…Jensen's taking Josh to lunch right now; he's going to ask him to be best man at our wedding. I wanted my brother but Jensen vetoed that, well, so, I agreed to Josh as a compromise. Jared? Jared, did you hear me? I sent an invitation to you and your mother, but since we're standing here and I guess Jensen hasn't said anything yet…" She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Are you okay?" she asked, but it was with a smile you could cut a throat with.

He nodded. What else could he do? "So, so, congratulations, I mean, good luck…oh, I mean, hey, I gotta run, I forgot I have a thing—"

His phone rang on and off the whole time he drove. Fuck Mike. Fuck Jensen. "Fuck me," he muttered. He drove carefully, no way was he gonna have an accident in his momma's car. No way. He had respect for people, not like some he could name, some people who didn’t give a fuck about the feelings of others. He parked, sat in the driveway for a while, studiously not looking over at the Ackles'. He spent a while timing his breaths, making sure he was actually breathing, before he picked up his phone and punched in Mike's number. 

"I'm home, you ass, where are you? Well, come pick me the fuck up. I need to get out of my head right now."

~J2J~

**NOW**  
"Holy shit, finally…you're actually there. I…wow, I didn’t expect for you to ever…I was beginning to think I'd dreamed you up."

"Yeah, it's been a few weeks, I know—sorry about that." 

"Weeks? Hell, no—the last time I talked to you was the end of my junior year—I'm a senior now. We're graduating, me and Jared are, in a couple weeks. I've been trying to get hold of you _forever._ Where have you been? Wait—are you okay? I don't want to bother you if, y'know. It's just…I liked talking to you…I-I thought…maybe you got tired of talking to some strange kid…"

"No, not at all! No, I just…" _Years? Has it been…?_ Jared shook, his hands dancing across the desktop. First he had to believe that he was talking to his JR, now he had to believe that this damn thing was skipping through time? Or alternate universes, like a comic book come to life?

And what if it was true? If he wasn't crazy and hallucinating the whole shit, than….maybe….

It had to be. If this was…if they'd jumped in time like this, _(senior year!)_ that meant they were heading for the fire academy soon. And. And Jensen was going to— 

He could hear it, that time had passed over there, wherever Other-Jensen was. Other-Jensen's voice—it was deeper, more grown-up, since the last few days—but no, _years,_ that they'd talked. Jared was missing huge parts of Jensen's life…but on the other hand, he'd lived that life already…if this was what he thought it was. Fuck, trying to think about it was giving him a massive headache.

"Hey, um…so, kinda kickin' around the idea of getting married." 

Jared's heart stuttered. "What…really?" _No, no. no, not again, can't go through that again…._

"My girlfriend, Danni, we talked about her, right? Yeah. She's, ah, pregnant." 

Jared jerked back from the mic. Even though he knew it was coming, the pain was as strong as it'd been when he'd heard it the first time. _Danni's pregnant._ They were getting married. Which meant Jensen was standing on the edge of the pier, not even knowing he was looking down into the abyss. And of course this was going to happen, of course…there was nothing Jared could do but suffer and die again. Lose Jensen all over again. 

"Anyway…that’s what's happening. And it's gonna be okay, right, 'cause Danni really is a cool girl and she'll make a great mother and, yeah. It's gonna be great. Me and Jay, we're going to the fire academy. We're gonna be firemen. Jared, a fireman." Jensen laughed. "Man, I grew up thinking he was gonna be showing his stuff in galleries, or, or, be a designer or something…."

Jared swallowed tears, fresh hurt filling him…and then, it hit him, pretty much like a bat between the eyes. "Jen—Jensen—" he began, tentative, afraid, knowing how volatile Jensen had been at that age. "Are you…are you sure? That she's. y'know—" 

Because she hadn't been. She hadn’t been after all, and it was the beginning of the end of—everything. Everything.

~J2J~

**THEN**  
Jared slumped against the passenger side of the car and sighed. He shifted the paper tray of chili cheese tots from hand to hand, until Josh sighed himself and snatched it out of Jared's hands. "Hey!"

"Oh please, I'm not wasting food because you're a whiny-baby homo."

"Jeez fuck, Josh, if I didn't think you could kick my ass, I'd so kick your ass, you bigoted asshole."

"Whatever, you fuckin' love me. When you're not wastin' time obsessing over that clueless, monumentally stupid brother of mine, ya homodork."

Jared thought he'd gotten used to his whole fucked-up situation, and normally he'd laugh something like that off, but tonight, it snuck in under his walls and hit him in a twisted, painful way. His eyes filled before he could head the emotional tidal wave off. He didn't dare tell Josh what Jensen had done that night—fuck, it seemed like it happened a million years ago—he was seriously afraid Josh would maim Jensen. He blinked, and a stupid tear rolled loose.

"Oh shit—JT, man, please don’t cry, I don't mean it like _that,_ you know I didn't. I'm sorry; I'm always sayin' stupid shit, fuck, I promise I'll try and use my damn brain before I speak—"

Fuck. He scrubbed viciously at his face, and snorted "That's not—well, yeah, thanks, 'cause I kinda do hate when you say shit like that, dude, but no, it's not _that."_

"Oh, it’s the fuckin' Jensen part of it all, isn't it? I'm sorry about that too. It's just…it really sucks so much. You know I'd be all over you and him. Crap, I'd pick you over her any day."

"Oh, well. She's really a pretty nice person. More or less. No, fuck—I hate her. But…I don’t know, she seems to make Jensen happy, and she loves him, so—I'm happy he has her."

Josh stabbed Jared's tots with his plastic fork. He scowled as he chewed and said, "You've said that about every single girl he's ever dated."

"Yeah, see? _GIRL_ he's dated."

"JT…" Josh shook his head. "I can't help feeling that boy's trying too damn hard. I think—"

"Fuck. Give it a rest, Josh, please?"

Josh sighed, and shoved a last forkful of Jared's tots in his mouth. Then, of course, they had to have their their traditional ice-cream, and finally Josh drove Jared back home. Jared thanked him before heading up to bed. He sat on his bed for an hour or two, working on sketches, trying not to admit that he was actually waiting for JR to call until he finally gave up. Rage shook him for a moment—Jensen never thought about him unless there was some trouble or shit he couldn't deal with alone…all was forgotten when his ringtone bleated on the nightstand. 

"Hey, Jay." Jensen's voice sounded worn and tired. 

"Hey, Jen. I thought you were out with Danni."

"Yeah…I was. I just wanted to say hey. Missed you today."

Jared's fucking loser heart soared like a bird. He tried not to grin, "Yeah? Well, I missed you too—no, wait, no I didn't. Josh took me to the movies and stuffed me with coke and junk food so, not so much." He waited for Jensen to laugh, but there was only silence on the line…"Jen?"

"Unh, nothing. I just kind of spaced for a second…so you had a good time…with Josh?"

"Well, he's no Jensen, but yeah, we had a pretty good time. I like talking to Josh. He's kinda like my big brother, too. I know I'm always giving him shit, but I love the guy."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. He loves you right back. Well, I'm kind of tired so I'm going to go. I'll see you 'round."

And just like that Jensen hung up. Jared stared at the phone, listened to the empty on the line…"Well, _fuck._ Screw that." 

Jared shoved his arms into the sleeves of his faded old hoodie, the one that still smelled like oil paint, and slipped out the front door, knowing his momma had to have heard him leave, but knowing too that she was already well aware of where he was going. 

It was late, and dark, and quiet, and the slap of his sneakers against the sidewalk sounded loud, too loud. He counted his steps, one two one two three as he dashed down the walk, up the Ackles' drive, through the gate to the back yard and right under Jensen's window. He pulled himself up into an apple tree that grew close to the house. He climbed out on the one branch that almost touched the house, praying it would hold his weight. He leaned over gingerly, and rapped hard on the window. "Let me in," he yell-whispered. It took a few minutes but finally Jensen's surprised face was at the window and a second later he cranked it open. 

"Jesus, Jay, get the fuck in here. What the hell are you doing, you fuckin' moose? Why didn't you use the damn key—your ass is too big for this shit."

"You always climb into my window—"

"But not up a tree too small for me—"

"Whatever, get out my way—be glad I came to see you, assface." He slithered in and dropped to Jensen's floor, feeling pretty damn accomplished—and thrilled he hadn't killed himself. He really hadn't done that since they were skinny little freshmen—a lot had changed since then. 

Jensen laughed, and stepped back, gazing at Jared like…like Jared was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Jared didn't care—Jen looked beautiful, all smiles and laugh lines and freckles, begging to be touched. Jared shoved his hands under his armpits—Jensen pulled him in and ruffled Jared's hair until it crackled and stood on end. 

"You're the ass. Keep it down. Mom'll have a fit if she finds you in here."

"Then we better keep really quiet," Jared smiled, pleased that Jensen hadn't sent him away, that he was home alone, for once. 

They spread out on Jensen's bed and talked, talked until the sun came up and not once did Jared have to think about keeping his hands off Jensen, or worrying about the last time they'd touched each other…being there, on his bed, it was like Jensen was his and he didn't need to show it, or have it made visible…Jared drifted off thinking that and in the night, turned towards his friend, fitted himself against Jensen and Jensen pulled him closer, made a deep, dark sound of satisfied contentment that Jared never heard.

~J2J~

The Harris' backyard looked beautiful in the early evening light—white paper lanterns hung from the trees, rows of chairs covered in white tulle tied back with raffia sat on either side of a long stretch of satiny material. It pointed the way to a rented gazebo hung with white netting and little glowing mini-lights. There were candles on either side of the acrylic podium the minister stood at. It was all very impressive, and hard to believe that the yard was the same postage stamp-size and shape as all the other yards on the block. A few trees and a line of mini-light-festooned hedges screened the lawn from the street, giving them the illusion of privacy. The yard was a little greener than the Ackles, or his momma's. Mr. Harris was kind of obsessed about his lawn, Jensen said once, when they were talking about Danni and her family. It showed.

Jared took it all in from his shadowed spot towards the back of the lawn, watching the happy bride who was rather trim for being five months gone. Maybe her dress was just well made. Jensen stood, along with Josh and Danni's brother, under the gazebo, waiting for Danni and her dad to make it up the satin pathway. Both the Ackles boys looked a little sick….

Jared listened attentively to the minister, didn't roll his eyes and just scoffed quietly and inwardly at their deeply felt, oh-so-romantic personal vows to each other, stolen straight off the greeting card rack at Walgreens. Standing there silently and trying to look thrilled was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but he was doing it for Jensen. 

The lights glittered brightly as the sky darkened, making his eyes water…his gut tightened with each word the minister spoke, it flipped when Jensen slid the ring on her slim, pale finger. Jared fought a roll of nausea that almost toppled him when the light caught on the thin band of gold. Married. Jensen was Danni's now, for better or worse, in sickness and health. Fuck.

Some words Jared didn’t catch were said and then… they bent towards each other, ready to seal their vows with a kiss. Everyone laughed a little as the kiss went off center; Jensen laughed awkwardly, and tried again. This time, the kiss was perfect and Jared just couldn’t take another second. The minute he could, he made his way to the bar Mr. Harris had set up—a cutesy little thing with a grass skirt attached to it, a little half-awning of grass attached. Sort of vaguely Hollywood-Tahitian…he actually didn’t give a shit, what was important was that he managed to steal a tray covered with little shot-glasses of all different hues, pretty in a way, and headed back to his alcove in the bushes. 

He had a wonderful vantage point, a great place to watch Jensen and his fecund bride wander around and greet the guests, stopping every few minutes to kiss when another idiot banged their cutlery against their glass. 

It might have been the alcohol clouding his eyes, might have been wishful thinking, but after a while, Jensen's crinkly smile slowly became Jensen making that face, the one where his eyes went kind of stony and his lips were still smiling but the smile was stiff and tight…Jared tossed off another shot. "Here's to married bliss," he muttered. When the lights began to blur and run and his face felt wet, Jared figured he'd put in all the time he'd had to for friendship's sake. He threw the final shot glass into the bushes, pushed back deeper into the shadows, and shoved his way through the hedges out onto the dark street. 

Jared was in his car and driving slowly away before he was even aware he'd started the damn thing. He was halfway out of town before he started to cry, huge, shaking sobs that made his stomach lurch and his hands skitter across the wheel. He gripped it harder to keep the car from drifting, so hard his hands hurt. He tried to concentrate on the sting, tried to think of anything besides how his world had gone up in flames. He tried hard, but nothing worked. 

He had nothing now. 

He ended up in a strip mall about fifteen minutes from home, sitting in his car cradling a giant Americano, and gasping every few seconds. He was beginning to seriously worry about suffocating, maybe dehydrating. He'd parked towards the rear of the lot in a bid for privacy. Didn’t matter really, the way he was shaking and sniffling, anyone looking in the car would probably think he needed a fix or whatever and give him a wide berth, so he gave in to it gratefully, completely—shook and cried and cursed people who didn't belong to him anymore. When he finally began to calm enough to drink without drowning or spilling it all over, he gulped down coffee until he'd worked up the courage to check his watch—the happy couple should be getting ready to go soon. Honeymoon at a mountain resort, fucking cliché as hell, he thought. Jen liked the ocean, what the hell where they going to do in the mountains…?

Jared scrubbed at his eyes and then his leaking nose. He yanked the rear-view down and took stock. He was blotchy-red, and his nose was wet and snotty. He still had a twig stuck in his hair from breaking through the hedges—no one in Starbucks could have told him? He twitched when his phone rang— _Me and Baby Brother,_ fucking Josh Ackles. 

Josh, his fake brother, Jensen, his fake love of his life, the epicenter of his whole fake-filled world…he sighed, picked up the phone. "What?"

"No one but me noticed you left, dude. Lucky."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No. Nothing about this shit is good. It's stupid…but her parents are happy and my parents are so fuckin' relieved, I guess, and JR is just…fuck. I'm so sorry, JT…where are you? Are you safe to drive? Want me to come get you?"

"No, no, Josh, I don't. I just wanna…I just need to get myself together, okay? I'm fine—"

"JT—"

"—I'm going to _be_ fine. I always knew…I knew it would be like this one day. So. Today's the first day of the rest of my life, right?"

"Fuck. Jared. I wish...I wish I could help."

"You do. Now get back to the reception—anyone asks, I was heading towards tossing my cookies 'n I didn’t want to mess up their night."

The silence swelled out of his phone like it had weight. Then Josh took a deep, shaky breath and blew it out. "All right…I'll talk to you. Tonight, all right?"

"Okay." Jared hung up. Sat in the lot a while longer, drinking his cooling coffee. He emptied the cup and entered a number…

"Hello."

The weight lifted, just a tiny bit, at the soft greeting, but at least now he could breathe a little. "Hi…are you. Are you busy?"

"No. I was waiting for you to call. It's okay. Come on over. I'd love to see you."

"Thanks, Tom. I just…" He laughed, short and sharp. "I think I'm a little wasted, man."

"Oh, Jay…where are you? I'll come get you." 

Jared could hear rustling in the background, like Tom was getting dressed. "No, no, relax. I'm…I'm okay, I got it. 'M fine, really."

"Jay. I'm coming right now. Just tell me where you are—and _stay_ there, okay?" 

"Okay." Jared blinked…a tear squeezed out to roll down his cheek. He scratched himself wiping it away.

*

The next morning, he woke in Tom's bed, Tom plastered along his back. Jared sighed. It was a good feeling, comforting. Tom was big, wider than him, warm and so smooth…skin like velvet. It felt like he was a teen again, when Tom had walked into his life and helped him through some bad times. This…doing this was probably stupid, but like he'd told Josh, this was the first day of the rest of his life.

He looked over his shoulder at the still sleeping man. Whatever happens next, he thought, he sure as hell wasn’t dragging Tom down with him. He got up quietly as he could, looking for his clothes. 

"You better be getting up to make breakfast, Padalecki."

Jared flushed bright red—he hadn't planned on it, not by a long shot. "I'm, ah, I was just. Leaving?"

Tom sat up. "Look, I get it, and I'm fine with it. What we are, what we'll always be, are friends. Never going to be more than that, so _relax._ And make me breakfast." 

Jared turned around and looked at him. His eyes were clear, fond, and focused on Jared…and that’s all Jared saw. "Okay. Okay…what d'ya want?"

"Surprise me," he said with a smile. 

It sucked, really. If Jared could love anyone else, he'd love Tom.

~J2J~

**NOW**  
Jared waited for a response, pretty sure Jensen had signed off, pretty sure he'd pissed him off but good—but Jensen was still there, managed a strangled little chuckle.

"You sound like my friend. But he's just…"Jensen sighed. "He's just lookin' out for me. He's always looking out for me. That's the kind of guy he is. He's been my friend since babyhood practically, my Jared."

Jared's heart clenched at that. _My Jared._ "Best friends forever, hunh?" He made it sound a little snarky, to cover his emotion.

"Screw you!" Jensen snickered. "But yeah, he's my best friend, knows me better than anyone, I guess. He's so…alive. He's always been funny and unique and so full of light—like, the sun just comes out when he smiles. Man, that sounds girly. But it's true, I swear."

"Yeah?" Jared wasn't sure how he felt about hearing himself described this way, the way Jensen sounded when he spoke. It was a bit like he was intruding, a bit like he was finally getting what he'd always wanted—proof of being loved.

"You're laughing at me now, aren't you?"

Even through the crappy speakers Jared could pick up the uncertainty. "Hell no—Saint Jared with the sunny smile, got it." 

Jen laughed, and it seemed like whatever uncertainty he was feeling was swept away. _"Bitch!_ And dimples. If you're gonna make fun of me cause of the smile, you gotta know, he's got these like...awesome dimples. Makes you wanna smile back, no matter what. And man, when he laughs he throws his whole body into it, you just gotta laugh with him, do anything you can to make him laugh. It's great."

"You really like him, don’t you?" Jared felt a shimmer of anger, grief…he should have known. 

"Duh—best friend. He's just…my best friend." 

"I'm sure it’s a two-way street, he loves you back, man. Has to."

Jensen was quiet again, for so long that this time, Jared was so sure he'd disconnected. He jumped when suddenly Jensen spoke again. "Yeah. See…the thing is. Thing is. Listen, you don't live around here, do you?"

"No, man, I don't." Jared didn't feel bad for lying because he _didn't_ live around there, he wasn't in that world that had a Jensen to smile at, to love, warm and alive…"No."

"My Jared…the thing is, I love him. I mean, _love_ him. I think I always have. So. Go on, say what you want. Curse me out, laugh at me, sign off forever, doesn't matter. But for once in my life, I had to say it out loud. An' fuck, you know what—didn't make me feel any better saying it out loud—" Jensen let out a strangled chuckle—"it just makes me feel like _shit._ I can't…this life, man. It's killing me. I…I'm a terrible person. I've been unfaithful, so many times I've been unfaithful but I'm not sure if it's to Dee or, or. No, the truth is, I feel more like I'm being unfaithful to _Jared_ than to her."

Jared gasped at the pain that wracked him. "What?" 

There was a rushing—his ears filled with a wailing sound, like a storm was roaring through the house, but the air was still. 

Jared swayed, knocked sideways by a sudden, full-blown memory of Jensen in some nameless club, wild on the dance floor. Jared grabbed at his head—the images slamming into him like sledgehammers. Jensen pressing his sweat-slick back against Jared's bare chest, both of them hard, Jared feeling like he'd still lost everything…but nothing like that had ever happened to him…at least, it wasn't a memory he'd had before. It was as if Jensen had triggered some change in this, his real life—fuck, he didn’t even know what to call this anymore, was he stuck in some elaborate dream or was this really happening. Or was the world changing around him without him noticing…?

Something flickered at the edge of his vision—he twisted towards the window. There, again… an aurora spilled across the sky. In the background, the radio popped and hissed. He made out Jensen's voice through the static. He turned towards the radio, shaking hand cradling the mic. "Jen…?" 

"Oh, man, you're still there—thought I'd lost you. Or…that you'd left. It's too much to hear, I get it. You leave if you have to."

"I'm fine, I promise, you can talk if you want to, I'm good." 

The radio popped and hesitated, Jensen's voice faded, then came back strong. "You know what's almost the worst thing about this all? My stupid, unrequited, love?" Jensen laughed bitterly. "It's that Jared's gay. Yeah, he's gay and not interested in me at all—he's made it obvious."

"But you're married, what's he _supposed_ to do? I mean, he's probably just—" Jared snapped. What the hell was he supposed to do? He was totally forgetting that this Jensen and his Jensen weren't the same people. Maybe. Probably. Did this Jensen get caught by his Jared in a club, being a breath away from getting fucked in public…?

"What else was I supposed to do? Everyone—everyone was waiting, and she was waiting and she's—she was pregnant, we thought she was, and I didn't. Have. A. Choice, Jared. I don't. I can't…I don't _want_ this life, man. It's killing me. I…I'm a terrible person."

"Oh man, no, JR, you're not terrible, you never have been, you've always been a good friend, you just…just made a mistake…." 

_"JR?_ How do you know my—who are you? You _do_ know me, don’t you? Who the hell are you are, damn it!"

Jared started babbling, trying to get his words out as fast as he could. He knew he'd screwed things, Jensen was pulling back—"Talk to him, I swear to god, ask him, you'll find out, he—he loves you too, always has, I _promise!"_

The radio snapped and hissed—bleeding out nothing but static. 

"No, no, no—fuck no, not now—not _now!"_ Jared slammed both fist on the desk, so hard the desk skittered into the wall, shaking the windows and making his reflection shimmy. "JR…"

~J2J~

**THEN**  


Life, as they say, moves on. A broken heart couldn't exactly kill you, no matter what it felt like. Still, Jared was more than a little surprised that he kept right on living. Surprised that it didn't take as long as he imagined it would to get to the point where it wasn't a grinding pain to wake up in the morning and go on. Eventually, the smiles he got from Jensen stopped cutting like a knife, not every rare touch burned like acid, so—he went on. 

At that point, life was just less miserable, but slowly, it became interesting. He was even grateful for Jensen's insistence that Jared join him in his quest to become a fireman. He came to look at the old hands with a new, deeper respect. He understood that there were men here for whom this was a calling, not just a job—or as in his case, a pathetic attempt to keep the unrequited love of their life in sight. Jared wasn't sure that he measured up, but he pushed on, because he had to. He'd promised Jensen to have his back, and this was just one of the ways he did. The times when they were sweating under a full load of fire-fighting gear, made him grateful for Jensen's nagging him when they were kids, for making Jared realize that he actually had a knack for athletics. Jared had gotten used to pushing himself to his limit back then; he was surprised all over again to find out how high his limits were. The PT was okay—definitely hard, but bearable. Thank god for small favors, though, because as exhausting as it could be doing PT wearing turnout gear, seeing Jensen in that gear was completely fucking hot. So hot, it almost made the misery worth it. 

They'd sweated, they'd studied, they'd passed the physical tests and the mental tests, they'd dealt with hazing—some of the pranks that the old hands pulled on the 'boots' were even funny, kind of. At least that's what he told himself when he found his car keys in the freezer…in a block of ice. And their first haircuts…Jared grimaced, and combed his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. It still felt weird, made him feel a bit…exposed; he didn’t think the short cut suit him nearly as well as it suited Jen. No surprise there.

All things considered, they both did okay—better than. They weren’t the best, but they weren’t the worst by any means. And Jensen took to all the training like a duck to water. Jared couldn't remember Jensen being so focused, so driven—not since middle school, at least. Jensen seemed to have finally found his place, as if all along his life had lacked some purpose he was only now finding. Jensen had always been a decent guy at heart, had always had so much potential. Jared saw that Jensen was growing, maturing, trying to become a better man than he already was. Of course, Danneel was part of the reason for that. Jared was glad for him, glad that loving Danneel had helped Jensen to find himself. 

Really, it was great. Just great. Apparently, being best friends with Jared had brought out the slutty, pot-smoking, binge-drinking side of Jensen, but _Danneel,_ Danneel with her perky breasts and baby-birthing hips, brought out the hero in him. 

Jared huffed in annoyance. Every time he thought about that girl, it just brought out the bitter bitch in him. He'd smack that bitch out of himself, but he was beginning to worry about the danger of multiple mild concussions, with as hard and as frequently he was driven to self-violence by the Jen-And-Dee Show.

Jared laughed aloud, called himself a drama queen since Josh wasn't there to do it for him. He turned his full attention to what he was supposed to be doing, which was making dinner for the evening shift just starting to come in. It was his turn, and he figured he'd make something simple but filling, so lasagna and salad and garlic bread it was. 

He put a couple of pitchers of homemade iced tea into the fridge, and wiped down the stainless steel countertops. He pulled out a couple of large pots and long, low pans. He let the work fill him, relax him, dicing onions and peppers, frying ground meat for the sauce. Whistling, he dumped a couple of jars of sauce in a large pot, along with a few cans of crushed tomatoes and the diced vegetables. He dumped a handful of garlic powder in with it, sloshed a spoon around in it and sniffed. Not bad.

He was whistling while waiting for the noodles to boil, just about to pull a few bags of shredded cheese out of the fridge when Jensen's voice cracked the contented little bubble he'd drifted in. 

"If Jared's making that lasagna again—"

The second voice shattered it. 

"Aw, shit. Is the faggot cooking? I'm not gonna eat anything he makes—god knows what I’ll catch."

"Really?" Jared heard Jensen snap, his voice raised in outrage. He turned around to face the doorway and the jerk was standing there. He could see Jensen over the guy's shoulder, and he looked pissed off. Jared expected him to put distance between himself and Jared's gayness, but no, he was there, grabbing the guy—Sean— pulling him around to face Jensen. The other guys made room, shifting out of Jensen's way, putting some distance between Sean and themselves. Jared noted the expressions, the disgust, which faces aimed it at him, and which aimed it at Sean. 

"Really," Jensen said again. "Are you shitting me with this homophobic crap?" 

"Taking up for Faggalecki, Ackles?" Sean twisted in Jensen's grip, trying to free himself. "Always knew you guys were more than buddies in high school—" 

"Shut up," Jared started, but Jensen butted in with a vengeance. Jared was stunned, staring open-mouthed as Jensen shoved Sean across the kitchen, fetching him up against a set of cabinets and bouncing his head off them. "You fucking shut up about Jared, you got me? You know goddamn well there's nobody better to have at your back. You're an asshole, Sean, you were an asshole in school and you're an asshole now. Suck it up and leave off, hear me, or the next time I get in your face…." He shook the man hard, and shoved him towards the door.

"Fuck you, Ackles," Sean muttered, but slunk out into the day room. Jared was glad, and a little surprised, to see that only two guys went with. Not bad odds. He definitely wouldn’t forget who those guys were. 

"You okay?" Jensen asked, nodded when Jared said he was, then stomped off somewhere without a backwards glance. 

Eric, one of the older guys, came up and patted Jared's shoulder. "Hey, kid. You really okay?"

Jared sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Those jerk-offs, they don’t bother me. I've had tons of practice in playing shit like that off."

"Good. That's a real mature and thoughtful attitude to have, Padalecki. And you know, if worse comes to worse, there's always Ex-Lax brownies," Eric said, and winked. "I'll never tell." 

At the end of their shift, Jensen was waiting for him. "Hey, uh…Dee dropped me off and she still needs the car…can I get a ride, or…?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, shut up and get in," Jared said, which, judging by the way Jensen cracked up, was the right response. And okay, life moved on and sometimes, it was actually good. Jared put the car in drive with a glance at JR's in the passenger seat. It was damn good to have him there, and he saw that Jen was still smiling a little, fine lines at the corners of his eyes deepening with it.

Yeah, Jared thought, Life hurt, but sometimes there were days like this—the way it used to be.

~J2J~

Jared piled silky material on the center of his bed, shifting through it with a thoughtful expression. _The purple or the red…._

"What are you doing?"

"Fuck!" Jared jumped a mile. "What the hell are _you_ doing—don’t you knock?"

"Not when I have a key," Josh said. "So—whatcha doin'?" 

"Trying to get something together for cabaret night at Woody's…what are you doing?" Jared shook out a bright red top, scowling thoughtfully at it before tossing it back on the bed. 

"Eh, just getting out from under the ole ball-an'-chain and the rugrat," Josh said, trying to look casual.

Jared sputtered a bit, trying to muffle a laugh. "So, she kicked you out of the house, hunh?" 

Jared liked Allie—she was a no-nonsense woman who loved Josh like the sun rose and set on him and vice versa. Jared was jealous of them. Jensen was jealous of them. Hell, everyone who ever met them was. They were kind of sickeningly perfect, in the weird, sarcastic way they had with each other.

"Getting all fabulous, are ya? Who ya going with, Tom?"

"Nah, a guy I've been talking to online," Jared said. He fiddled with a kimono-style wrap dress before tossing it aside as well. He sighed and reluctantly asked, "How's Jensen doing?"

"Since the thing?" Josh asked, scowling. Everyone around them thought Dannni had had a miscarriage. Only Jared, Josh, and Jensen knew it wasn't exactly true—there'd never been a baby at all. But Jensen, good old Jensen, stuck up for her. _"She made a mistake, Jared. It's understandable, all that stress and worry and well, sometimes people make mistakes. But we're good, y'know. She loves me. It’ll work out, you'll see. She's great."_

Sure, Jared thought, she was just great. In the mean time, Jensen seemed to shrink inside himself day by day, looking sadder and sadder. How was it no one seemed to notice? Why couldn't everyone who cared about Jensen read him as well as Jared could? 

Jared shook himself out of his maudlin thoughts and forced himself to cheer up. "So, you gonna help or just drink all my beer and describe in detail the tragedy of Allie kicking you out?"

"Fuck you, she didn't kick me out—okay, yes. She said I was hovering, making the baby nervous and driving her nuts. How the hell is that possible? Don’t moms want dads helping with the baby and all? How'm I supposed to bond with Ross if she's always pushing me out—aaand shutting up now," he said to Jared's raised eyebrow.

"Dude, just sayin', but you might want to tone it down, just a notch or two…hundred. Go set up the game to record. I gotta shave my legs."

Josh made to stand, but stopped halfway off the bed, a weird expression on his face. "Hunh. That's just…such a weird pair of statements." He shrugged. "Whatya got to eat?"

When Jared came out of his bedroom, he was wearing a pair of purple patent leather flats, meant to compliment a purple pencil skirt, split up the side to reveal a muscular thigh, topped off with a short-sleeved bolero jacket and a little purple glitter dashed across his bare chest, clinging to the hair there. His face was a smooth mask, highlighted with lips made fuller by mauve gloss. His eyelids were done up like stylized peacock feathers. Right over the mole on the side of his nose, he'd pasted a tiny, purple, heart-shaped sticker. He was pleased with the look. Cabaret night was fun, a little something he did for himself occasionally, especially if he needed a lift. 

Josh saluted him with a tip of his bottle. "There you go, the tallest drag queen in the world. That ensemble really shows off those mile-wide shoulders and fucking huge guns to the fullest."

"You don't get me—you never have. That's why we're breaking up. Go home to your wife."

Josh laughed hard. "I'm thinking about going with you—someone needs to protect you from the sleazeballs who're gonna try to take advantage of your delicate little ass."

*

Jared tossed an overnight bag in the back seat—he had hopes for a good evening. He did the drive into the city alone; he might have hopes for how the night would end, but that didn’t mean they'd work out. Instead, he'd agreed to meet his date at Woody's, and if they clicked, Jared knew of a couple of nice, reasonable places to overnight. He was really looking forward to it, a night out, a little play, and if he was lucky, maybe some good sex. He'd been entirely too dependent on his right hand for entertainment lately.

The night did indeed end up being a lot of fun, even if he and his date had parted ways instead of going home together. They'd liked each other well enough; there was just no _"click"_ between the two of them—nice, but not worth the trouble of going home with him and everything that entailed. Mutual lack of heat led to kisses on the cheek and a promise to get together again—brunch rather than dinner. 

Jared continued his evening alone, a little less put together than when he'd started out. He'd dumped bits of his outfit as the night went on, and currently he was in the skirt, the bolero rolled into a sweat-wet ball in the back seat of his car. His makeup was still fairly intact, but the lipstick had worn away and he'd rescued his feet from the flats and was now wearing a pair of worn Chucks. Maybe not the most  
put-together outfit, but he was still getting hit on pretty steadily. His ass looked damn good in the skin-tight skirt, not to mention that tight as it was, there was no mistaking him for a girl. 

He was wandering around the perimeter of a dance floor, last song before he packed it in—alone—when he caught sight of someone interesting in the crowd. The guy was throwing himself around like he was well and truly drunk. At the angle Jared stood, he could only see the guy from the back; his head was whipping back and forth, he was pumping his elbows and swinging his hips and so into it that Jared couldn’t help grinning, watching that tight little ass bounce—looking like it was designed to fit perfectly in his hands. Couldn’t see the guy's face but judging by the crowd he was gathering, and the lack of mocking, Jared was willing to bet that the guy was hot. 

Light gleamed off bare, sweat glazed shoulders, hit the guy's short-cut hair in such a way as to make it sparkle. The image was topped off with a pair of bowlegs, Jared's bullet-proof kink. Jared decided right then and there, he was going to fuck this guy. 

Jared headed out to the floor and danced his way up to the guy, grinding his bare chest against the guy's hot, sweat-slick back. Guy didn't even look back, he just melted against Jared with a groan…the way he sounded had Jared imagining how good it would be to pull more sounds like that out of him. Jared gripped his hips and pulled him closer, rubbed against that fine ass. Liked the way the guy practically rode Jared's dick, like he'd fuck him right there on he floor, given half a chance. He ran his hands over the guy's chest, felt his nipples pebbling under his palms. He could feel little groans rumbling in the guy's chest—hot. Jared leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Tell me you're here alone…"

The body under his hands went stiff—so stiff Jared wondered for a hot moment if the guy had died standing up. His head turned, slowly, and even before Jared was looking at the guy head-on, he knew who it was, should have known all along…goddamn freckles all over his damn shoulders, his damn neck, even his damn ear..."Jensen?"

Jensen. 

_Jensen._

Jared had heard the expression 'swept by a wave of rage' before, but until this moment, he'd never experienced anything like it. Now, he was felt like he was literally drowning in a rage so intense he could barely keep his feet, barely breathe. He snatched his hands from Jensen's hips and wheeled around, stalking away. He heard Jensen behind him, calling him over and over. Jared just kept walking. Back to his car, back to his apartment, back home… _back home_ repeated in his head like a mantra, the only thought he could keep in his head without wanting to vomit….

He spent the night curled up on the bed in his old room at his momma's. He needed to be there when the world fell in, be where he'd always felt loved and safe and protected.

~J2J~


	5. Chapter 5

5

The TV droned quietly in the background, the familiar noises of the fire station barely registering as Jared caught up with his paperwork for the day. There was a weird, little, choking noise at the door that made Jared look up from his notebook to see Jensen walking into the dayroom, clinging to the wall like an uneasy cat as he came in. He didn't meet Jared's eyes. He looked pale and frightened. _Wonderful. Guess this where we confront the elephant,_ Jared thought. He sighed and closed his notebook. "Hey."

"Um. Hey. S'up?"

"Trying to suss out what Eric's making for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah…" Jensen nodded jerkily, his glance bouncing all over the room, but never quite landing on Jared. 

Jared leaned back in his chair, spread his legs wide and folded his arms over his stomach—the very picture of relaxed, unconcerned, happy-go-lucky Jared. He pasted on a smile and looked Jensen in the eye. "Sorry, dude, no can do. Not gonna spill the beans. My brain's like a vault when it comes to secrets—you know me." 

Both of them knew they weren't talking about the pot pie Eric was going to make for dinner because that's all he ever made. The look Jensen turned on him was so fucking grateful Jared actually felt sad for him. "You know me better than that, Jen," he said softly. "We won’t ever speak of it." The rage he'd felt for days cooled, faded. Right now, he only felt pity for his friend, his poor, screwed-up Jensen.

Thanks, JT, I'm…thanks." 

He was gone as quietly as he came in. Jared shook his head. How JR could ever have believed there was a chance Jared would give him up…Jensen should've known without asking he could count on Jared to keep it quiet. Odd, though, the way he'd seemed to look almost…disappointed for a moment. Jen was probably just exhausted, considering the load he was carrying. Lies weighed a lot.

Jared shook his head. Jensen's life was Jensen's business, fucked to hell as it was. Nothing he could do about it. He opened his notebook again and did his best to ignore Jensen and his problems.

*

Of course, ignoring Jensen was easier said than done. Not thinking about him was like trying not to think of that polar bear. That night at the club did drive home one undeniable fact: it was time that Jared start thinking about the future-- _his_ future. His feelings for Jensen were chains he'd shackled himself with—it was past time to let them go. It hurt, like stepping in front of a Mac truck, to discover Jensen was bi, but still didn't want Jared. He couldn't change that, but damn it, he could at least gain control and direction over his life.

In keeping with his resolve to move on with his life, Jared decided that it was time to start house-hunting. It was a useful thing to do. House-hunting ate up his free time, keeping him busy and out of Jensen's way—kept Jensen out of his head when he wasn't at work. He dragged his poor momma with, and when she begged off, Mike, sometimes Tom, was drafted as his second set of eyes.

He found a place he liked eventually; an old fashioned, sixties-style rancher. Single level with two bedrooms—one had a wall of windows that bathed the room in gorgeous light. There was a nice deck off the back and a yard big enough to plant some tomatoes in, but not too big that mowing would be a chore. Mike claimed the place was perfect for a cranky old retiree, not a hot, young, gay guy who was possibly a catch—which on one hand, thanks, and on the other, Mike was an ass. 

In the spirit of moving on and claiming his life, Jared even brought Jensen to come see it, right after closing.

Jensen was behaving somewhat oddly, had been since Jared invited him to see his new home. He'd been very quiet after his initial surprise at finding Jared was a home owner. Jensen had even seemed somewhat hurt that Jared hadn't included him in his search, but Jared was still a little bitter about the whole turn their grown-up life had taken, so he hadn't really gone out of his way to smooth Jen's ruffled feelings. It might be a little petty, but…Jared huffed. Okay, he was being totally petty, but he blamed it on his inner-bitch.

Pettiness melted away as Jared trailed behind his friend. He watched Jensen walk through the house, looking in all the rooms, peering out into the backyard. Eventually Jensen turned to Jared with a small, tight smile. "You did good," he said. "It’s a great place, JT. Hate to admit it, but I think it's nicer than me and Dee's place. The rooms are nice size, it's sunny, great little kitchen…it's real nice. But…why a house?"

Jared shrugged. "I needed something for me, something that belonged to just me." 

Jensen nodded thoughtfully. After a moment, he rested his hand on Jared's shoulder—hesitant at first, almost took it away when Jared stiffened, but let it rest when Jared relaxed into the hold. He squeezed before letting Jared go again. "You know…you could've just got a cat."

Jared was startled into laughing—he punched Jensen's shoulder and said, "Fuck you!" He was still laughing as he said it, and Jensen tipped his head back at him and grinned, wide and happy, _finally—_ reminding Jared what he'd been missing for too long. 

 

The Ackles' 2nd Annual "Hello Summer" barbecue was in full swing, their backyard full of people: friends of Danni's, of Jensen's, along with most of the guys from the firehouse. Mike was there, and even Tom, along with his buddy, Sam. 

Jared walked though the yard; trailed by the guy he'd been seeing for a couple of months now, Riley. He felt a touch uneasy, which was silly. There was no real reason not to bring Riley with; to introduce him to the people Jared cared about. He and Riley got on reasonably well, after all, and the sex was pretty good—Jared stopped that train of thought. 

Truthfully, it felt weird. He'd never brought one of the guys he'd dated around Jensen before. He'd never really dated anyone long enough to consider it. 

Jensen hadn't had much to say to Jared when Riley and he had come in—they didn't hang out all that much after work anymore, not since That Night. Not that there was a problem—they got along fine when they were at work, no problem at all. It was just…that _night._ It hung over both of them, try as he might not to dwell on it…that slick, hot slide of Jen's bare back against his bare chest…the way Jen had smelled, the way he'd….

Jared shook his head. Yeah. At any rate, Jared was afraid he'd only been invited because it would look weird if he wasn't there, what with all the other guys being here. Eric and his wife waved at him from where they sat at a picnic table. A few guys were sitting around a brick patio set in one corner of the yard, strumming guitars, and watching the grills. Jen was singing along with them. Jared smiled. He liked hearing Jensen sing, rare as that was. He had a pleasant voice—surprisingly smooth and smoky. Jared nodded to the rhythm, singing under his own breath. He kept it low—he had no illusions about how _he_ sounded. 

Riley dropped down into the plastic lawn chair next to him and passed him a beer. Lit by the torches set around the yard, he looked a little like Jensen. Unfortunately, this was not a brand-new observation of Jared's. 

Riley squinted at the group across the yard, said, "So…that's the famous Jensen, hunh?"

Jared bit down on the little jab of irritation that was becoming all too common between the two of them lately. "Well, it's Jensen, anyway—I don’t know about famous."

"Yeah." Riley killed his beer and slapped the bottle down on a stray side table. "Well, for not being famous, we sure do get to hear a lot about good, old, _Jensen._ Heck, I feel like I've known him forever. Almost like I dated him—or dated his ex. Hard to compete against your boy over there." 

Jared wanted to tell him that he was nuts, being jealous and possessive. That Jensen had never, ever been more than a friend…but the words caught in his throat and just wouldn't unstick. 

"I've been watching you watch him all night—and not watch me at all. I don't need to be beat in the head to get why this is going nowhere between us, Jared." Riley turned to him, his mouth twisted in a bitter smile. "I think this is the part where one of us says we make better friends than lovers."

"Christ, Riley—are you breaking up with me right now? Do you hear yourself? You're jealous of a guy who's…who's straight, okay, and really fuckin' _married,_ just in case you didn’t notice. And also…I don't…I have no idea what you're talking about…and seriously, are you breaking up with me?"

"Yes, I am. No, I'm not mad, on the off chance that you even give a damn. I just…I'd like a relationship that has some traction, you know? You're fun, and what I get to have of you is great—I just want more." Riley stopped and drew in a deep breath, let it out when Jared just sat, staring speechless at him. He laughed, kind of an ugly sound, and shook his head. "Listen, I-I can't stay. Can you find a ride home?"

"I—I guess, yeah, I can get home okay, no problem…Momma's not that far from here. I can walk…fuck, Riley, I'm so goddamn sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t care. I do! I just—we need to talk—" 

"Nah, I don't think it'll help. I know you care, Jared. Just not enough." He jerked his chin in Jensen's direction. "There are things in your life, man, that you need to clean up." Riley patted him on the shoulder, spared both of them a good-bye kiss, and left. It was obvious to everyone something not that great had just gone down.

Jensen was plating up burgers when Riley waved good-bye—he swiveled around to face Jared, his eyebrows climbing to a _what the hell?_ level.

Jared shrugged. _it's okay_

Jensen kept staring until Danni waltzed up and grabbed his arms to pull him back in the house. Jared stared in the direction they'd gone for a few minutes, watching the curtains at the patio door settle before getting up and heading towards the coolers. He fished an ice-cold bottle of beer out of the sloshy, mostly-melted ice, shook the water off and pressed it to the back of his neck. The cold, wet glass made him feel a little less like the top of his head was about to explode. He felt an unsettling mix of emotions—felt guilty for not really feeling guilty. 

He wandered around the yard, working up a good buzz, and ended up chatting with Sam, who'd come with Tom. Sam was nice, if initially a little cool towards him—he'd never understood how it had worked between Tom and him. They were talking about school, and all its expenses, when Mike came out of nowhere to kidnap him. Mike marched him towards the horseshoe pit set up under flood lights. It was…really kind of redneck, and also kind of Jensen, Jared thought, biting back a laugh. He got wrangled into playing against his will, though remained fully clothed, no matter how hard Mike tried to get everyone to play Strip Horseshoes. That was Mike though, his goal in life was to convert every game to Strip—Strip Monopoly, Strip Uno (which was kind of fun) Strip crossword puzzle…Jared laughed. How could you not love the unabashed weirdness that was Mike? 

Eventually he managed to escape and headed for the house to clean up. Seeing Dannni huddled near the deck with a few friends, he cut across the opposite side instead to avoid her and went into their house though the mudroom door. Once inside, he figured what the hell, he'd been dumped, he was higher than he'd planned to get…might as well call it a night and head over to his momma's. He went looking for Jensen to say good-bye before he left.

He found him a few minutes later in the game room, sitting in the dark with beer in hand, feet up on the couch and his eyes glued to a silent TV. "Hey, Jensen. Hiding from your own party?"

"Jared…hey. What happened out there? Your, ah…friend left kinda fast, didn’t he? Didn't like the music or something?"

"Dude, nothing like that…He just. Well, gave me the boot, I guess. Don’t blame him. I was a shitty boyfriend."

Jensen winced got up off the couch. "Don’t say that." He grabbed some of the bottles and cans that sat here and there on the tables and the floor, headed out to the garage with them. Jared grabbed some empties as well, and followed him. Why not? He was bored and had nothing better to do. 

_No,_ actually—what he was, was pissed as hell at Jensen and his hypocritical self, and he meant to get this off his chest, once and forever and let the fucking chips fall where they may. That disgusted look on Jensen's face had been about the last straw…it cracked open walls Jared had built around his feelings about Jensen, about Jensen's lies, and the weight he'd put on Jared, whether intentional or not. What he was about to say was private, and he wanted Jensen's undivided attention. 

He followed Jensen into the garage and carefully, quietly, shut the door behind himself. 

"You know," Jared said, proud that he could keep his voice calm and even. "How is it that you can live with yourself, being such a hypocritical, lying, self-hating queer? I even say the word _'boyfriend'_ and you look like you caught me shittin' on your yard—but hey, once a month like clockwork, Jensen Ackles is in town gettin' _his_ cock sucked—hell, I'm pretty sure you were on your way to suckin' mine before—"

Jensen looked like he'd been punched in the gut—he went white as milk, and Jared thought for a second the man was going to pass out. "Don't—don't—" he stuttered, before Jared cut him off with an impatient wave.

"Oh, fucking relax, JR. I'm not going to tell anyone. You keep your secret shame to your fuckin' self. No one's gonna hear it from me. Just. God, people like you make me sick."

"I'm _not—_ that's not what I'm about—"

"Save it. As soon as I came out, your mom and dad acted like I was a stranger. And you—any time I mention I'm with a guy, you get all twisted and—and—look like you're about to vomit—how do you think that makes me feel, Jensen? It's not like _you're_ some kinda saint…I was amazed you could keep it in your pants— _nobody_ thought being married was gonna make a difference to you, and whad'ya know, they were right about the fucking around, just wrong about the flavor. That—you used me, Jensen. That time in my room…I was just training wheels for you, wasn't I?" 

"That's what you think, Jared? You really think I'm some kind of…slut? Or that I didn't care, that I just used you? To get off? For _practice?"_

"I don’t think that. I _know_ that's what it was—fuck! I can't believe all the years I wasted, wasted half my life just…waiting for something that was never gonna happen!" Jared's throat burned with wanting to shout, but having to keep quiet.

"What, Jared? What were you waiting for, hunh? Tell me." Jensen stomped forward, crowding Jared against the door, and reaching out, snagged his collar and began shaking him. "What were you waiting for?" 

"This, you fuck, this—" Jared grabbed a handful of Jen's hair and yanked him forward, covering his mouth with his own. It was a messy, wet, _terrible_ kiss. Jared yanked his mouth away, expecting a punch, a knee to the crotch. Didn’t expect Jensen to throw himself back into the kiss like he was diving off a cliff. He flattened himself against Jared, grinding to hold him in place. All the while Jensen kissed frantically, practically climbing into Jared's mouth, whimpering, moaning—Jared wasn't sure if it was pleasure or guilt, or hell, maybe both. Probably both. _Maybe…_ Jared hissed, trying to clear his head. He should be feeling guilt too. Jensen was _married,_ not his JR anymore, hadn't been for a long, long time….

He tried to pull away but Jensen grabbed him, tangling his hands in Jared's shirt, shaking his head and talking, so fast, desperate— "No, no, please don’t. Don’t leave me. Jared, I know you want this, I know you, damn it, I love you. I can't anymore. I need to be with you. If this is true, if that guy is telling me the truth…do you want this? Goddamn it, Jared—do you want _me?"_

Jared stared, mouth hanging open and caught out by Jensen's frantic storm of words. Then wiped everything out of his head except the part where Jensen had said _I love you, and I need to be with you._

He dragged Jen past the side door of the garage, kicked open the gate and sprinted towards Jensen's car, dragging Jen with. "Get in, you fucker, and if you get out again, I swear I'll kill you."

Jensen laughed—there was a huge edge of hysteria to it, but it was laughter, and his eyes met Jared's easily. "Sweet-talking motherfucker," he snorted, fishing his car keys out of his pocket and waving them at Jared with a flourish. "You're lucky I'm not drunk like some I could name." 

Jared rolled his eyes, slid into the car and glared at Jensen until he did the same.

They made it back to Jared's in record time, and somehow, miraculously, managed not to get stopped by cops on the way.

*

They were through the doorway and halfway down the hall to the bedroom before Jared hesitated. He forced himself to ask, "JR, what about Danni—she's going to notice you're gone, you know."

"Danni's not here. Nobody's here but us. Just you and me. Okay?"

Jared nodded slowly. He was taking this, no matter what. He'd waited, gone without for so very, very long…he'd be a better person some other day….

Jensen smiled, a sweet, sad smile, but the look in his eyes was determined—nothing sweet there. Somewhere along the line, Jensen had taken control, and Jared was more than happy to let him. He let Jensen unbutton his shirt, helped him unfasten his pants. Fabric slid down his thighs, followed by Jensen's warm hands trailing after, teasing him with a hint of nails…it sent goosebumps racing over Jared's skin. He dropped to the bed when Jen tapped his knees, made Jared lift his feet, one by one, so he could take his shoes and socks off. Jared shuddered again and blushed—it was ridiculous, but something about the intimate touch of Jen's fingers curling around Jared's foot as he rolled the sock off went straight to his dick.

Jared groaned quietly and lifted his hips when Jensen prodded him, making it easier for him to slide Jared's pants off. Jared debated grabbing a pillow to cover his dick—the way it was straining upwards, so hard and flushed so dark, made him feel embarrassingly needy. He compromised by covered himself with his hand; somehow his effort at modesty morphed into him stroking himself slowly, thoroughly. He licked his lip, held it between his teeth, shuddered with each lingering stroke—all to give Jen a little show. Judging from the way Jen was staring hungrily at Jared's dick, worrying that delicious lower lip from pink to blood-red, Jared's little show was doing exactly what he wanted it to…Jen looked just as fucked up and needy as Jared felt. _Good._

Jensen took a shaky breath and moved back from the bed, Jared's pants clutched to his chest. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that, unwrap you like a present to myself. Damn. I knew it was going to be good, but this…damn."

Jared shuddered, leaned back on one hand and kept stroking his dick with the other. It was good knowing that the desire was mutual; Jensen did want him, just as much as Jared wanted Jensen.

"I'm going to—" Jensen made a short, choppy gesture that Jared figured meant _take my clothes off, too._ Oh yeah, that was a fantastic plan. Jared's dick twitched, drooled…he stroked the precome into his skin. Jensen shivered, and Jared couldn't keep from grinning—Jen was so gone. 

"Oh shit, there they are--those dangerous dimples…" Jensen murmured, yanking at his shirt, struggling to deal with buttons and sleeves…. 

Jared stuck his tongue out at Jensen, and Jensen laughed, began pulling at the rest of his clothes. He was less careful with himself than he'd been with Jared. In seconds, he was standing in a small pile of his own clothes, his smile fading into a nervous grimace.

"I, uh, I've never really done this with a guy b-before." He stuttered to a stop, took a deep breath before going on. "I mean, I've had sex, yeah, but just hookups. Like, never got near a bed or…or even the backseat of a car. Never got a name, or…or anything. It's all been pretty impersonal." Jensen's face held an expression of such miserable embarrassment that Jared ignored the jealousy that flared through him, and reached out to Jensen. 

"Don't think about any of that, Jen," he said. "It won't be like that this time." He patted the bed next to him, and Jensen shuffled closer, his cheeks bright red, the flush spreading down his neck and across his chest and Jared knew it wasn't just embarrassment making him blush like that. Not judging by the heavy sway of his dick as he came closer. Jared thought, not for the first time, just how beautiful Jensen was. The way freckles lovingly followed the curves of his body, scattered lightly over his belly, thicker nearer his dick, fading away in the nest of reddish brown hair his dick rose from. Made him want to comb his fingers through it, trace the copper flecks that dusted his hips and even the smooth, perfect curve of Jen's dick with his mouth… "Fucking beautiful, Jen, like a fucking Greek statue, like art. An' your fuckin' gorgeous dick…."

"I'm not sure you're really seeing me," Jen said, smiling nervously. "But you, god. You're amazing, Jay. You're just…" he shrugged. "Just like I'd imagined." 

Jared pulled him down with a twist that landed Jensen on top of him instead of next to him on the bed. He flowed into Jared's lap, fucking graceful as a panther. Looped his arms around Jared's neck and pulled him close, like he'd been with Jared forever, and knew just where to sit, just how to rub against him, how to kiss him. Jared leaned back, opened his nightstand drawer and pulled out lube, a condom.

 

Jen frowned, but Jared shook his head. "Tell me you were always careful—"

 

"Can't." Jensen flushed deeper. "I…Sometimes I was really trashed…maybe I didn’t always make the right choices. I'm not really sure," he said, lifting his head and meeting Jared's eyes. "Yeah. I can't be sure, Jay. Danni and I, we always—since that first time, when she claimed she—thought she was—pregnant-"

"Alright. It's okay, Jen, we'll get tested, okay, but until then…"

"Of course—yes. We wanna do this the right way." 

Jared nodded. Fuck, he wanted nothing more than to swallow that perfect dick, but…flavored condoms, had to put those on his grocery list. "Ah, and also, I top. Is that—"

Jensen flushed deeper. "It's okay—it's good. I pretty much only…only, y'know."

"It's cute the way you can't talk about it. Don't worry, we'll fix that." Jared chuckled when Jen went impossibly redder. 

 

"I'm sitting naked on your lap and you're laughing at me?" He wiggled in a way that rubbed his fucking fine, peach of an ass all over Jared's lap. Jared couldn’t help it; he slid his hands under Jen, played with his hole. He stroked a bit of lube in with the tips of his fingers, and watched Jensen's eyes lose focus. "C'mon," he moaned. "More, Jared. Get your fingers in me, c'mon."

"Yeah, okay, let me just, I'm doin' it, now." Jared slid his fingers up inside Jensen, into the plush, hot grip. Jen clenched tight around his knuckles at first, until the slick Jared had coated his fingers in made the slide easier. It only took a moment or two before Jensen opened up, so quick and completely that Jared shuddered. It took all his will power to rein himself in, roll a condom down over his straining dick. 

"Oh god, ready—" Jensen moaned, "Fuck me, fuck me already—"

"Fuckin' bossy." Jared slid a hand under Jensen's ass, cupped him, and lifted. He grabbed his dick with the other. "Come down slow, okay?" he said, his voice trembling with the strain.

Jensen nodded. He slid down on Jared, slowly as he could, hissing all the way. 

This was it—Jared blinked, stunned motionless with the feeling, the realization that it was happening, what he'd waited for half his life. Jen bottomed out, and Jared didn't know whether to scream or to cry, or struggle to memorize every fucking second. The way it _felt_ being in Jensen, _with_ Jensen, finally, impossibly, real. 

Jen hissed again when Jared jerked back into motion, but shook his head when Jared asked if he wanted to stop. Jared held still anyway, and let Jen decided to move or not, and he did, just shallow, little hip thrusts at first, until he moaned, "Okay, now—" and lifted until he'd almost pulled off of Jared, then dropped back down. "Oh, goddamn, you're so thick—it feels good—Jay, you feel so damn good."

"You good?" At Jen's nod, Jared grabbed his hips, and helped Jensen work himself on his dick, hard, fast. Jensen yelped and moaned when Jared hit his sweet spot; Jared tried to concentrate there. He held his breath, absorbed in listening to the sucking, slapping, sound of his dick pounding in and out of Jensen, their skin catching, then sliding together—Jared felt his orgasm coiling up inside of him, ready to burst. 

"Jared," Jensen gasped. "Gonna, please—" 

"I gotcha, s'okay—" Jared put his hand between them, wrapped his fingers tight around Jen and began jacking him, quickly, furiously, the way Jared liked—seemed Jen liked it that way, too. He let out a moan that slid its way up the scale, and made Jared damn glad he had no neighbors to worry about. Making Jen cry out in that desperate-sounding way filled him with a hot shot of pride, and kicked him over the edge. He clutched wildly at Jensen, howling as he came, not giving a damn about anything but how fucking _good_ it felt. 

He came back to himself slowly, drifting into reality again. A sharp, huffing noise distracted him, took him a few seconds to realize it was Jensen, about to come…he felt Jensen's dick go harder in his hand…saw the slit pout open for that hot second before little jets of come spattered, blood-hot and thick, against Jared's skin…the sight blasted aftershocks through him. "Shit, so fucking hot."

They folded in against each other, breath hitching, fingers grasping, aftershocks making them twitch and groan. Jared felt…fabulous. So warm, content—hell, practically boneless with release. 

Jensen was smiling at him, looking totally fucked-out himself, a grin twitching up one corner of his mouth. He finger-combed damp bangs off Jared's forehead. He looked sleepy—happy. He looked like Jared was feeling: content, in love, and like the world had finally clicked into place around him. "Jensen Ross," he murmured.

"Jared Tristan," Jensen responded, soft and fond.

Finally Jensen had to move. Jared reached under him and held the condom as Jensen slid off him, wrapped it up and tossed it in the general direction of his wastebasket. Reality crept in slowly as he came down. What happened next, he wondered, what about the lives they'd made? "What about "Danni?"

It hurt to say her name, as if speaking it would break this magic spell that'd somehow been woven around them. But Jensen just laid his warm hand on Jared's stomach, leaned in and kissed him, then said firmly, clearly, "Jared…don’t you get it? I'm not going back there. I don’t care what she thinks, or what my mom and dad think, or what anyone in this whole fucking town thinks. All that matters to me, is you."

~J2J~

**NOW**  
Jared shook the radio, horrified that the thin smoke leaking out of it meant that the fucking thing had toasted itself. It was dead, and damn it, he had things to say, things to tell Jensen…maybe.

He dropped the radio to the desk, just barely managing to stop himself throwing it through the window. 

"I wanted to tell him not to go!" he shouted at his reflection in the glass. Because if he couldn't save his Jensen, maybe he could save this one.

The radio crouched on his desk, transformed into a lump of metal and plastic and glass. It was staring at him, silently judging with its dead dials. "Stop looking at me," he muttered. He slumped in his chair, dragged his fingers through his hair. Shit, he'd screwed up again, failed Jensen _again._

He stared out the windows, avoiding looking at himself…not really looking at anything at all. Nothing outside but grass and hedges, a lone lawn chair sitting in the middle of the yard…the sky was clear, stars winking in a cloudless night. Jared hunched lower in his chair, his fingers skittered over the desk top writing Jensen's name in the surface, over and over…something at the very edge of his sight fluttered, he turned his head a bit, and got the weird, unsettling sensation that the world was turning with him, that weird, sliding, giddy, unsettled feeling he'd felt when—

Sheer curtains of shimmering lights, in shades of lilac and green washed across the sky, shivering and writhing: an aurora swept overhead, the way it had that night he'd fallen in the yard.

He clawed for the edge of the desk, reaching for support. He yelped, jumped in his seat when the hum of the radio broke the weird, weighted silence. Sparks crackled along the surface and suddenly it lit, dials sweeping back and forth before steadying and there it was again, Jensen's voice. 

Jared panicked, knowing that time was different wherever this Jensen was, praying that he hadn't skipped years into the future. "Hello! Hello!" 

"Jared, are you there?"

"Yes! Yes, I am! What's happened, what day is it—I mean—"

"Dude. I just lost the signal for a few minutes, what's wrong—no, wait—I wanna know, just who the _fuck_ are you? And how the hell do you know me?"

Jared took a deep breath, crossed mental fingers and said, "It started twenty years ago, when you and your family moved into old Mrs. Brown's house, some months after she'd passed. And at first, you and your brother, Josh—" Jared heard the soft gasp but Jensen was quiet other than that. "Josh and you picked on a weird little kid that lived next door…."

*

There was a distinctly heavy quality to the silence oozing out of the ham radio, Jared thought. Silence that you could hold in your hands, probably ball up and—

"Yeah…" Jensen sighed, and Jared heard a tone of resignation in his voice. "I kinda knew that there was something freaky going on from the start. You're Jared. I mean, you're my Jared…and you're not. It's weird all right. But all the things you know…fuck, the clubbing. Hell…the cheating…"

"Yeah. Why? Why didn't you just _tell_ me? Ask me to help? Hell, ask Josh."

"Oh, Jared. I _couldn't._ You don’t know how much I wanted to, but I was a coward. I was afraid of screwing things up with you; I didn’t want to end up losing you, or losing my parents. Danni was the best way—I loved her, just not like I thought, not like I _should._ Fuck it, never as much as I loved _you."_

"Well, you fucking hid it pretty well. How the fuck did you ever think you could lose me? Me, your best friend, your, your… _damn_ it, Jensen."

"Because I was the only one who hid stuff, right? I mean, come on, Jared never— _you_ never—acted like you wanted me. Except once—no, _twice_ right, and then I talked myself out of it because the first time, I figured I'd blown it forever. I was all over the landscape with you, and you were probably the only one who didn’t see it. Fuck, I just figured you didn’t want to see it. Then that night at the club, when you ran…"

Jared heard the hitch in Jensen's breath. "And then you stopped. You stopped looking at me—"

"Enough, Jensen! Enough." The slow, too calm recital of how things went wrong, where he'd dropped the ball, was more than he could take.

 

"I stopped looking too, okay, and my folks were so happy and it was _easy,_ I could breathe again. Sort of. Can you understand?"

"You know what, Jensen, yeah, I did stop looking. Forgive me for trying to be done with being a masochist. Mostly." Jared laughed sadly. "Mostly. Yeah, I'm not gonna lie. I tried hard to move on, and Tom suffered for it—what a fuckin' saint—and yeah, Riley too, because he looked a little like you, poor bastard. I tried—with them, with nameless hook-ups. And then…and then I was alone and just starting to do okay, until this fucking ham radio setup threw my life into turmoil. _Again._ I didn’t even know you were still doing that, were you doing that when you were…oh." Jared stopped, swallowing down the fresh burst of grief that overwhelmed him. "Oh, Jensen…"

"Jared— _what?_ Look, something's wrong, something bad, I can tell. Fuck, how'd it take me this long to figure it out—I _know_ you, Jared. I know how you sound when the world is ending…I can tell when things aren't—you're alone. Did something happen to me, JT?" Jensen asked gently.

"You died," Jared said, and then tears threatened to choke him. "You died, an' I couldn’t stop it, and I almost died trying to stop it and I couldn’t I couldn’t—"

"JAY. JT, stop…I'm _here,_ okay, I'm all right."

"No. Not in my world. In my world, you're gone."

Silence so deep that Jared thought the signal had died again and then came a faint crackle, and then Jensen's voice was back…it seemed to bypass the radio all together, come right out of the air. "What happened, JT?"

"I can't…it's hard, y'know? I'm talking to you, but here, it's been…okay. Okay, it's like this, JR. There was a fire, and a terrible mistake…"

Jared told him what happened, the why, and the where, and the how. Jensen was silent through it all, and when Jared finally stopped, out of breath, water-logged and feeling faint, he hummed. Jared perked up instinctively. He knew that particular hum—Jensen was thinking, linking bits and pieces together and coming up with a whole picture. Jensen believed him.

"Jared…what if…what if we can change the future? There has to be a reason this is happening, us talking to each other like this. Maybe this is the reason, Jay."

"But…I'm not from the future, or you're not the past…something. How can I talk to you and be there too? How can anything we do matter?"

"Give me the date, Jay, and we'll try to change things—make it work, so you don’t have to be on your own anymore."

Jensen didn't get it. Jared's life was done already. But for the Jared there, the one he'd never talked to, he could spare him this pain. That was worth something. Jared scrubbed at his eyes, tears momentarily blurring everything but fading quickly—he'd cried himself out and had nothing left but hope that when Jensen signed off, he'd go find that Jared and tell that one everything he'd told him, and then _that_ Jared could have the life Jared had wanted….

Jared gave him the date, and the time. Jensen was quiet, finally said, "You’ve been alone for a long time. Well, don’t worry, that's going to change, trust me, JT." 

And of course, as per any tragicomedy, the radio hissed, spat static, and died. "Trust me" echoed over and over in Jared's head. He pushed the silent radio away from him and stood, padded down the hall to his bedroom. He shut the door and lay down on his bed in the darkness. He knew that this night was the last night he'd hear Jensen's voice. Hopefully, somewhere, Jensen and his Jared were going to be happy—it was almost like he was getting a do-over.

 _Well,_ Jared thought, and wiped at his streaming eyes, _so much for having cried myself out._

~J2J~

**Now (and ever after)**

A call came into the firehouse—a three alarm fire called in on an older block of apartment buildings, and Jensen and Jared were in the first unit to respond. Jared kept his eye on Jensen. He'd been jumpy and twitchy all day, hell, he'd been that way for _days._

It seemed to reach a fever pitch today, whatever was going on with him. Every few minutes he'd stopped what he was doing, twitching through some silent, inner debate, frowning and flinching before going on with whatever he was doing. Jared worried that whatever it was that had Jensen so distracted it might rear up and bite all their asses. He forced himself to take a deep breath. He was being ridiculous. It was more than likely the thing with leaving Danni—nerves, probably, considering that he'd left her for Jared. He was definitely not changing his mind; Jensen had made it plain to everyone just where his heart was now. There was no doubt in the way Jensen looked at him, the way he kissed him…so what the hell was up? 

 

Jared felt like he'd barely let that breath go before they were in the staging area, and then, inside. 

Inside was an inferno. The walls were cracking, collapsing, the heat was like an actual weight—the tank on his back kept banging into his spine and Jared was sure that he wouldn't be able to walk when he got out. The mask was glued to his face with sweat, but he kept going—his arm shivered and his hands went a little numb when he smashed a door into pieces with his axe. He pushed through the broken panels, searching for signs of life. There was nothing. 

They were side by side now; both of them jogging up the narrow hallway, the sound of their breath under their masks echoing in their ears. Jared jerked his head towards another door, and Jensen nodded. He cracked open the door and they jumped to the side as a wall of flame shot through the gap. They waited a beat as it died down, searching out anything alive moving in the inferno. Nothing moved. Jared's heart beat faster, he tried to calm his breathing, steady himself but for some reason, he was afraid, terrified in a way he'd never been before. He searched out Jensen—who was not at his side where he was supposed to be, where the fuck was he—?

 

Tortured wood began shrieking and swaying—Jensen loomed up in his sight, waving him forward.

"We gotta get out, now," Jared shouted, ready to grab Jen and drag his ass out, but Jensen was right there with him, moving in the same direction with him. 

Back down the hall, now jogging even _faster,_ heading towards escape—an open window. _"Go, go—"_

Out of the fire, on to a fire escape, and suddenly Jensen stopped short. "There's a kid back there."

Jared looked over his shoulder, and for a moment, through one of the open apartment doors he saw what at first glance looked like a small person. He squinted, about to swing towards it when he realized that it was a chair in flames, the outline looking like a person huddled at first, panicked glance—"No, there isn't, the building's clear—"

"No, I think I saw—" suddenly Jensen stopped, whirled around and grabbed Jared's arm. "Oh my god! This is what he—you—he—was talking about! We have to get the fuck out of here—now! Now, Jared!"

Jared didn't waste time questioning Jensen, if he said run, they ran. They both raced for the fire escape, Jared tripping when Jensen pushed him to go first. Jared looped his hand around Jensen's glove, wrist, arm, grabbing on to him like he'd lose him forever if he let go—

The world came apart as a giant fist made of flame and hot air slammed into him and knocked him through the second floor window. Right before he was thrown out into the dark, he imagined Jensen's voice, heard Jensen say, "I love you, Jay. Second chances, he promised us." 

Dying was crueler than he'd thought. 

~J2J~

Jared blinked…his eyes felt sticky, his limbs heavy…he felt soft cotton sheets against his bare skin…the smell of blueberries made him sit up, the way it did so many mornings. Jared took a deep breath. Readied himself for his usual morning wave of grief, made sharper now that he'd lost him again….he let himself remember Jensen, the way the sun would turn his green eyes iridescent, lighting the amber and gold swirled through the jade. And his smile—beautiful, beautiful smile…

There was something different in the air this morning. Maybe losing radio Jensen had shaken his gears loose—he felt odd, a little bit disconnected. He remembered the fire, remembered the pain, the awful agony of skin being seared, cooking…he reached down for his leg and his fingers skated over smooth, unblemished skin. He remembered what it was like to live without Jensen, but he also remembered…an impossible now. 

He rolled upright, swung his feet over the edge of the bed. The floor was warm—the bedroom shades were open and the sun was pouring in, heating the air—not like a dream at all. On one wall there hung a painting, all gray hues, subdued streaks of color washing over a slightly abstract cityscape, in the lower corner he could just make out two figures in an embrace—the painting that he'd worked on while he'd decided to leave the firehouse, head back on a path he'd veered from once upon a time.

Jared shook his head. That wasn't right, that's not what happened…but the more he thought about it, the more he remembered it that way. Could it be—was this real? Was he asleep, damn it, did Jensen make it happen…?

He raced down the stairs, skidded into the kitchen, nose full of the smell of Jensen's fruity tea—his really awful tea, but also the heady smell of coffee…fuck, fresh ground even. 

What was going on? Jared knew, he _knew_ that Jensen had died. And before that, Jen had married—was married—to Danneel. And that he'd had given up everything to follow Jensen into the firehouse. But Jared also felt those memories fading, thinning, making room for new memories, like Jensen, standing in his kitchen, completely comfortable because he _belonged_ there. He was blowing cooling breaths across the top of his mug of tea, his eyes went a little wide and he smirked when he saw Jared in the doorway. He jerked his chin towards the breakfast bar, where Jared's coffee was waiting for him, of course, just like always, like he'd done every day since the fire—since before the fire—when he'd told Jared he loved him and had loved him forever. Divorced Danni and pissed off his parents, but made Josh so damn happy for the both of them and….

"What's up, Jay? You okay? You hungry?" That little smirk curving his lips widened and he set his cup down. "Yeah, you look like you're hungry."

Jensen leaned back against the bar, wide shoulders spanned by tight white cotton, hips cocked towards him and ratty flannel sleep pants snug over his crotch, outlining the thick curve of his dick. Jared moved forward like he was in a trance. This couldn’t be happening. But it had—did, more than once, and he never, ever lost his wonder at being able to do this, after so many years, so much unhappiness, but now…he slid Jen's ratty, old flannel pants down around his ankles and rubbed his face, his mouth, all over him, taking in the way he smelled, the way he tasted—

This was real. This _was_ life—his life now. He was done with hanging out in the corners of his own world, like some loser. He concentrated on memories trying to fade, fixing them in his head, because if there was one thing he wanted out of this besides Jensen, it was to know how damn grateful he should be to have it. 

When he pulled off of Jensen, the salt-bitter tang of him in his mouth, Jen pulled him close, kissed him until there was nothing left inside but the taste of himself. 

"Feels good, god, you have no idea. It worked. You saved me, Jay, and you gave me—us—a new chance."

"You know? You…you remember?"

"I got a feeling that it's just gonna be you and me that remember, but yeah. I do." Jensen closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath. "Man…I can't…we could have had this all along, through high school, and, and _more—_ if it wasn't for me. I'm so fucking _sad_ that we wasted all those years…but to finally be with you…it's worth it."

Jared bent over Jensen, hugging him tight, his hair spilling over Jensen's bare shoulder, making him laugh a little. "Everything was worth it to get to here."

*Finish* 


End file.
